Stumbling Through

Sometimes it feels like you’re juggling
several life-paths at once
and trudging through a swamp
of possibilities.
You never know if you don’t try,
but how do you know which one to try?

Where do your passions lie?
If I place a bet on this bird
will it fly?

Or shall I put less money
—the soon-obsolete-penny—
on every bird that has potential
and hope at least one
may find the sky?

These bets are effort,
the birds, paths diverged.

One may choose the path less followed
or might they choose to split themselves up?
One leg go left, the other right.
These hands shall dig underground for light,
whilst the heart searches the sky.
Through all this, the body moves on
determined to find what it’s looking for.

What is it looking for?
“I’ll know it when I find it.”
The song says,
“Look around, look around
at how lucky you are to be alive right now.”
Yet unsatisfied. Yet unfulfilled.
Thus, also, the mind looks inward.

Is it here? All along?
These scrapes and pieces
from every direction
Can we build, rebuild
what is missing?

What is missing?