It feels like it is too late in the day of my life to begin anew
but that doesn’t appear to be so true
There’s no limit really to what I will or will not do
and as far as I can see even a mean breeze off a thousand trees will not dissuade me
while I still have the ability to breathe and move my limbs successfully-
then I decide where this little choo choo train goes, don’t I?
I decide where I stop, where I quit, where I give in
where I destroy whatever I no longer need to carry
where I start and what tasks I choose to end
I can steer during this storm and I don’t have to yield yet
and for the first time in a long time I’m remembering that my experience
is up to me regardless of if I can start or stop the thoughts I’m thinking
they are just thoughts, much like you, passing through,
like a gust circling up water over the ocean blue
and not the determinate of what I will ultimately feel is the right action to pursue-
so sometimes, like now, when I feel like it’s too late,
I know that’s a sad thought I keep conjuring in order to allow myself to hesitate
when there’s no cap on the extent that my mind and heart and actions can go,
so let all the harsh gales blow because this train and its tracks can bear the load
of choice and change and my personal growth
for as long as I can clean my own ass and move my own feet and wipe my own snotty nose.