Paradigm-Pioneer
Sometimes as we get under way
While roads and off-ramps pass each day,
Commitment seals our chosen course
And ends our exiting-resource.Like roller-coaster with the kids
Where Disneyland-ish safety bids
Us come and have a spot of fun –
Few exit points where we can run.That's how commitment feels today
No brave new world, incentive pay,
Or thrill of high nobility –
Just fear that lurks deep down in me.White-water rafting with no guide;
Niagara Gorge with falls – inside
Some tiny barrel like my kin
Who did that once, some fame to win.Good show I talk when I am asked
Just what I do, and brain I wrack
To give an answer brief but true,
Which later time I will not rue.So, starting dates for school pass by
(Attractive exits-roads close by) –
I force myself to sit here tight
And hold the bar in front with might.For who would comprehend this game?
I don't – though I've done much the same
At other points throughout the years –
The end quite vague, suppressing fears.To “pioneer a paradigm”
A task I do, a role that's mine,
Quite different looks in retrospect
But starting point – well, this is it.Near-misses pass as speed picks up;
The water shifts from calm to rough;
The focus narrows; options pass;
That's how commitment starts, alas.My path emerges random-ly –
More helpful would a sequence be,
So I make charts and lay things out
Then standing back, peruse my route.Not that it's real, it calms my fears
That there's a way ’spite coming years
Of steps, which taken clear a way
For me to pass, see light of day.For dark it gets as trail begins,
And forest deep I enter in,
Midst trees and tangles, loss of way –
I cut a trail, new pathway lay.At camp I liked to do that task –
With axe and spade I'd sapling whack;
Dig roots; and make the pathway clear;
Around a swamp, or outcrop veer.Right-brained that task I see it was –
How did I know best route because
I could not hear the waves onshore?
Ah! I'd stand back, then back some more.It was a solitary chore
For which I'd volunteer for more;
I really liked to hack my way
’Till through the brush see light of day.No GPS or power-scythe,
Just axe and instinct as my guide;
A simple set of skills at best;
Six days of work, then one day rest.So focus is on branches, roots,
Thus clear a pathway for our boots;
At first it did not look like much;
With other campers soon lost touch.So that is how I feel at start –
Commitment; gorge in little bark;
Head down as I hack out new trails;
Then later I can spin new tales.As Barker said, we bet the farm;
Push blindly on while spinning yarns
Which capture what we seek to know –
We walk by faith that this is so.navigation