B194. A Poem of Refocus

 

When the load grows too heavy,

as often it does,

for I pick up and pick up

‘til unload’s a must,

I climb up the mountain

where vision is clear.

I choose what is mine,

what my own soul calls dear.

Then down I return,

more focused, and freer.

There’s work to be done,

now my sight’s again clearer.

#443

KV 4/3/2025