Grace of Progress

A stillness, that’s hard to find.
A quiet, stretch of the mind.

Lasting not for but a few.
There’s too much for me to do.

Life’s for living’s what they say.
Cannot waste my time away.

Doings to which I’ve been condemned.
What’s the point? What is the end?

Perfect’s but a fleeting thing.
Effort’s wind beneath the wing.

A striving for what’s soon lost.
Work, resistance, all it costs.

Why give time, this price I pay?
If it’s all gone soon anyway?

Should I try or never start?
These thoughts that tear me apart.

But unity is revealed,
In progress and how it feels.

Not the goal or achievement.
A tuning, an agreement,

With primal needs to go fore.
To aim and shoot, nothing more.

Restless soul not calmed by rest.
It’s the journey, it’s the quest.

I won’t live to see the end.
The living whole and how it bends.

Whether my shot hit its mark?
On that point I’m in the dark.

Up to here a greater plan.
In the now can’t understand.

What is next is like what was.
So, I aim and shoot, because.