O spoilt child of the affluent world

O spoilt child of the affluent world.

 Do you not have water to fetch, wood to hew?

Do you not need have fields to till or livestock to tend?

Are there not young ones to comfort or old ones to whom you can lend a listening ear?

Are there no clothes to wash or pans to scrub, floors to sweep, paths to mend? No skins to tan or flax to spin?  No herbs to find and dry, no fruit to preserve? no cow to milk? no butter to churn, no clothes to mend, no cloth to weave?

For if this is true then you are truly blessed for you have the one thing that cannot be brought or traded, you have time.

Time to craft a story, write a poem, compose a song, time to master an instrument, 

 Time to paint a picture, to weave fine cloth, to make fine beads, to learn the discourse of frogs, to watch the birds as they come and go.

You have time to share your time, sing the old songs for those who can no longer sing, read stories for those who can no longer see, help those whose mastery of words is less than your own. 

Do not waste your time on self pity, for time will slip through your fingers like grains of sand.