Haphazardly, in the process of finding ourselves,
we can still get lost, become self-complacent.
Becoming far too consumed on one focal point
that we are more like some horse with blinders
just plodding along- while in our mind
believing we’ve just finally hit our stride
and more important, way out in front of everyone else.
Never even noticing we are the only ones in a race
and missing life and all the scenery along the way.
There is something to be said of an old adage,
of stopping to appreciate the roses along the way.
I’d prefer to be a horse in some pastoral setting,
roaming mountainous green meadows- unencumbered
than some cosmopolitan rat chasing…toxic crumbs.
Poet of the Light © 2019