There’s what it is

Then there’s what I see

There’s what it could or should be

And there’s what shall never be

Between all the what ifs and would haves

Lies me. Lies down. Lies to myself.

Tangled up in the rich vines of my imagination-

Self reliant, so dependent

Upon the destination

When my focus should be on the journey

When every present moment presents a choice

A could be

A has been

What’s the point in planning if the goals are a race? Every step matters

The second to last step wouldn’t be there without the second step

Or everything in between.

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