Swaying to the rhythm

of me, moving through days,

walking stealthy miles

across the desert, comforted

by solitude, a pendulum

swinging between survival

and freedom, settling

on the quiet delight

of simplicity.

 

Lean and focused,

one nimble step after another,

moving forward into

the unknown, guided by the sun

crossing from one side of the sky

to the other, the moon

gathering and giving away,

the seasons chasing each other

into the order of things.

 

Mind still, instincts sharp,

throbbing with clarity, rooted

in now, with no tomorrow

visible on the horizon, the tracks

of yesterday already filled in,

only this moment

for company.

You know all those certifications

handed out after every trial

and tribulation, every time

you were stretched beyond

what you thought you

could handle, all those skills

and lessons learned, new items

on your spiritual resume,

the one you don’t always want to

submit, would actually prefer

to keep hidden? Well, the universe,

like some omniscient version

of the cloud, already has a copy

in its giant filing cabinet just waiting

for the next open position,

the one you qualified for the last time

you cracked wide open and almost

fell apart—almost, but didn’t.

So when that almighty headhunter calls,

groan, roll your eyes, stomp your feet,

but you pretty much have to say yes,

have to box up your things and move out

of the cozy office you had hardly

begun decorating, and step back out

into the trenches where you—

and only you—can do the job

that needs to be done.