“Don’t underestimate the value of Doing Nothing, of just going along, 
listening to all the things you can’t hear, and not bothering.”
                                                                — Winnie the Pooh 
My Thoughts Laid Bear 

I like to mull. I like to muse. I like perusing others’ views. 
Philosophers, I’ve read a few (a Sartre, Nietzsche, Lao-Tzu brew) –   
I much prefer the Tao of Pooh. My mind’s attuned to Winnie. 
I briefly toyed with Sigmund Freud – a kinky trip most folks avoid.  
The id and ego (just one sniff) are apt to leave synapses stiff.  
I pine for Pooh – a waft, a whiff – a welcome breath of Winnie. 
When I have Rousseau on my plate. I ruminate and cogitate. 
Jean-Jacque’s tacks are tough to chew. I feast on finds but find no clue. 
I hunger for a scoop of Pooh. My tastes align with Winnie. 
I skimmed the grim Darwinian path: pond-scum and its aftermath –  
Simian roots, could this be true? Did life arise from soupy goo? 
I’d rather sink my head in Pooh. My missing link is Winnie. 
Confucius, Locke, and Socrates all drown me in sagacious seas. 
Jung’s reams of dreams, they make me blue, and Camus leaves me in a stew.    
I plan to cram my brain with Pooh – my joy depends on Winnie. 

Susan Jarvis Bryant

If you have any thoughts on this poem, Susan Jarvis Bryant would be pleased to hear them.