Scribbles
With funding comes terror, not quiet of heart,
Excuses for action now gone on my part;
'Tis strange how inaction though thought-full it's days,
‘Frustration, in thought’ now holds comforting ways.For stuck by the side of some road I knew well,
Its troubles and heartaches, of those I could tell
To any who'd would listen, as I rambled on,
But now the way’s open, I can move along.Transmissions, and traffic, gear-changes, and lights,
Air pressure in tires, is oil filled up right?
How does this door open? What is that odd smell?
My nerves are all rattled, this life seems like hell.I long for the comforts I once struggled with,
My biggest obstruction – me stuck in the ditch;
But problems of action exceed that by far,
As now I am driving this fast-moving car.Why is it old systems seem new to me now?
My calendar’s pages are blank – don't know how
To fill up the spaces (ahead of the wave)
And move to the future surefooted and brave.A thought comes now to me, “you've been here before
For start-ups you're good at, you've done them galore.
Relax, when the sky falls, it takes its sweet time
Till then, smell the roses, aware of that line –The line of that curve starting out as one cent
Which doubles each day on its graph, slightly bent;
Don't ask what it's face-value is on this day,
Ask, ’is it still doubling, the logarithmic-way?’For if it is growing and doubling each day
It looks like a hockey-stick curving its way
From where you are now as it rises quite fast
To where you desire to end up at last.So take a deep breath – maybe one or two more –
Then pick up some task with potential in store
To move your life forward or toss out some weight,
Then do it, departing from life which you hate.For what lies behind is far worse than ahead;
At one point you thought that right now you'd be dead;
But you are alive now, and full of great hope,
So buck up, jump in now, do what you once wrote.”navigation