There’s what it is
Then there’s what I see
There’s what it could or should be
And there’s what shall never be
Between all the what ifs and would haves
Lies me. Lies down. Lies to myself.
Tangled up in the rich vines of my imagination-
Self reliant, so dependent
Upon the destination
When my focus should be on the journey
When every present moment presents a choice
A could be
A has been
What’s the point in planning if the goals are a race? Every step matters
The second to last step wouldn’t be there without the second step
Or everything in between.
