Why Do You Ask Me?

Why do you ask me here at the last minute
“Whatever it could be that now sets a limit
To venturesome ways that explode deep within me
Yet as I approach I fear something will sting in me?”

I find for myself that these last minute jitters
Are like getting married for me and my sisters;
Or like cousin Paul's comment ’bout all those women
“Explore them all? Heck, I'm half-seeing this one!”

Of course, fear is friend – keeps us from being crazy,
But most of the time keeps us from being lazy;
For hunger, the Proverbist said, in his wisdom,
It motivates well – keeps us working till sundown.

Our fear is all right-brain – intuitively tells us
To watch P’s and Q’s lest our carelessness sells us
Down rivers and over Niagara's beauty –
And you've got such radar on vigilant duty –

You spoke of two gifts way up high – quite apparent
Matched radars that catch any movement aberrant;
The first senses break in the circle of friendship
Which turns on the other with question – “what is it?”

So you don't miss much – little slips ’neath your radar
To land in your camp while its bump makes you see stars;
But I don't have detail to pick up a pattern
Or see the potential which bad growth will return.

So I'm little use, most advice is now dated
And time is too short, so my input's low-rated;
I guess I'm not worried – I sit out these dance-steps
I'm waiting as Swifter the music release lets.

In South seas the boaters soon learned through their boat-decks
The feel pulse of swells from a storm far from them let's
Them navigate days lining up with these wave-forms
Despite surface churn that moves boat, even small storms.

For out in the South where no Northstar is shining,
They needed a way twixt their islands be winding
In darkness and fog be it storm or fair weather –
So waited for surf then with faith ventured thither.

I've learned through ‘Key Question’ to tease out the end-goal
A person's desiring to satisfy his soul,
With details developed in Wish List’s full bounty
It helps folks to see what they chase like a Mountie.

Instead of just riding as guest in their life-truck
Now folks get to drive and to get out when they’re stuck;
It doesn't address in their life all the issues
Just clarifies course which cuts tears and its tissues.

It doesn't take much to do life of another,
Or follow agenda from father or mother,
But once one sets out to find Tolkien's wee ring-thing
It's ‘extra resources I need’, they start thinking.

Which brings us around to religion’s sweet merit –
Its claim of a power that is drawn from the Spirit –
As gas in the car over hills lets us rumble
God's power is right there when we venture or stumble.

So that's why I smile when I hear of your terror
That maybe you're wrong, making some kind of error,
I know there's resources for just such occasion
But that's for tomorrow, if you feel the reason –

For who needs a tow-truck in fair-weather driving
When flat is the road, one can push without striving.
Some folks can anticipate need from the outset –
No matter, once needed, we all seek gas outlet.

I worked for a man who could not foresee problems;
I asked how he coped – ‘save resource for when it comes –
Then I can get round, under over or through it –
It may not be fancy, but that's how I do it.’

I couldn't imagine a lifetime of hedge-hops
From crisis to crisis whenever my life stops;
I know that my life jerky looks from the outside,
But I make resources and tools smoothing your ride.

Of all the divisions of forces I'd enter,
The Engineer Corps is for me top and center.
To bridge over rivers, fix roadways, dig ditches,
So you can move forward without making switches.

I guess what it comes to when fear sets a limit
Is “how I respond when I can't see what's in it”–
I tend to go forward, right into the sea spray,
So I can appraise what the needs of each new day.

I do not expect to survive, be a success,
And most of my days are spent working in deep mess;
But I have an output, it's what all I'm about,
The resourcing info of what's along that route.

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