The Morning Journey
The Morning Journey
My organized routine preparing for maddness ahead
through the mist and the wind it stretches on
the multitude of trodden treks
the everyday of here and back
Am I not an idiot?
For shoving off today as I plan in the next days
grown to years
several spent already, traveling to and from
a changing season, with equal reasons
crept into my mind
the stress of knowledge upon returning
responsibility and the constant learning
a pinwheel pioneer, others get means of transportation
engulfing themselves with a gluttony, an ungrateful privilege
gorging on the humor of a walking traveler
both of us strangers
a passenger of the same quest
the exact destination can be reached without rest
so I'll stretch out behind the threshold, astep
and go again
Am I not an idiot?
