The usual has gone away.
I go until I am astray.
I then stop to think it through.
That lasts for only but a few.
And then I’m back on the chase.
Seems I’ve become quite a case.
It’s taken me, I must confess.
Of this I’ve become quite possessed.
For what reason, to what end,
Do I chase this thing again?
Does this harm, does this fulfill?
Does this inflame a dormant will?
Yes, this does all of these things.
And I rise to the harm it brings.
The harm is there to overcome.
To remind that I’m far from done.
To become better than before .
To step into the something more.
What better harm than that from passion?
To make me work in fevered fashion.
To hunger for a road ahead,
More so than a soft warm bed.
To have a struggle for a reason.
That is the flavor of this season.
I have the means and have the will.
And so, for now, I won’t be still.
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