Take stock of plans that hang upon the wall.
Do they have deadlines? Or are they dead dreams?
Or do they even mean to be at all?
What’s lovely once may be unmasked as scheme.
Peel off the caulk that lines your window pane.
Push out the glass – and if you dare, step through.
Survive the fall, and clock the rising pain.
Notice the air, the lack of frame, the blue.
Then find your feet again, and make a list.
Choose each new item with palpable care,
for the wells dug in life’s mud become pits,
that tug on your desire and despair.
If everything in life is a pursuit,
take care choosing the measures to salute.
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