Harder
Even in these hard times
there are those who are hopeful,
who scratch joyfully toward
a more perfect imperfect,
who don't see only what they
don't have, who do make do,
but also build upon, add to, improve.
There are those who have
no time for the boiling noise
of anger or the circular mazes of
despair, and they are not yoked
to someone else's machinery
unless they want to be, in which
case they will tell you that
this is their own machinery,
their own toil, their chosen yoke.
There are those who are nimble
and who dance amidst the immovable,
who smile when they climb
and equally smile when they crawl,
who move left and right and
backward to move forward, who
enjoy the adventure of the longest
paths, the paths that shift and fall off,
who know there is only this one path.
There are those who lean forward
into hard and opposing forces,
whose hands are made thick
by cold winds and grasping thorns,
who gave up minding the hard
and sharp world. It's just a world.
And they hold it and rise up
and put it to their purpose.
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