The time is beckoning
For some soul reckoning
And so I’m sitting here
Groping, hoping, and (maybe moping?)
For some shedded light to appear
My words are fumbling
My thoughts-jumbling
My hands support my head
As I write, nail bite, for some insight
But am confused instead
My mind is brewing,
What am really I doing?
With my life, with my days
Prioritizing? Compromising? (Analyzing?)
Going in the right ways?
Others may keep busy
With paces so dizzy
Though it might seem to me
As acting, distracting (not reacting)
No time to think; to be.
But I am linking
My life to some thinking
And before my eyes
Unfurling, yet swirling, twirling
Don’t know where my destiny lies.
