gauntlet

a towel thrown in
or is it running
zigzagging away from my 
truths are supposed to be 
self-evident
what about self?
accountable to what
the feelings welling or 
emotions derailing the simplest
joys can be had

lost and found again

but you have to look

where is most likely

inside or out

there is a scary imagining

life unattached from anything

but my internal compass

the needle spinning as if

peace in the eye of the 

storms hidden from all 

but the most perceptive

hearts can feel it 

can't ever really be 

hidden fears and hopes

I've so many of each

time I'm at the threshold

transforming into 

an impassable dark forest

explored from the safety 

this worn out perspective

doesn't develop with age

clarifies nothing more than

a light shone on the breadth

of what this experience grows

where the fuck is this going

i am lost and on a path

eventually ending in a lost city

a gold tinted and fuzzy remembering

even the worst times

present always playing second 

choices to move from and toward

what focus is drawing in

close your ranks and 

close your eyes and 

prepare

to run

the future

is always

a gauntlet 

coming out the other

sides aren't chosen

they just are

an endless rolling tide

of whatever happens next

must be next 

corners and we choose 

left or right

the Tetris of life

block by block 

it builds up, they fall

into place

some more elegantly

i stumble, but

always forward

thinking; there's always the reset

but, how many do-overs do we

get some new batteries

all sold out, but 

maybe we find a way

recharging and charging

again

headlong into 

whatever around the corner

is ever

only

the next gauntlet