intent.

2006-07-15 1:09 a.m.

the race i have been running,
winds its arms around me, does not allow
for peace, blesses me with unsteady
footfalls, and i am
of all things
falling,
stumbling over the next word, fearful
of mistaking my own intentions.

self-actualization makes poor company
when the room is dark, when the house is lonely,
when there is no hope to beckon me, to send me
prideful
toward the last stretch,
on to my feeble homecoming.

rewind | fast forward