May I choose to follow this path through

For some they come in with the tide. For others they sail forever on the same horizon, never out of sight, never landing until the Watcher turns his eyes away in resignation, his dreams mocked to death by Time. ― Zora Neale Hurston

Guided by your sightless eyes And sounding ear and tongue You let your feet be swayed By the contents of being And much-experienced habit

For every calculated step Is an endless limbo A shuffling back and forth Going nowhere

For the objects that you pursue Though first appeared to be at hand Flee more quickly than can be pursued And when you believe you have reached them Only transmute themselves in the distance ahead

What is needed of you is To see how the myriad of thoughts that sway you Are like infinite hues within hues of the spectrum Until you step back and see the light

For these objects that pull you asunder Promise moments of beauty and wonder and joy That the weary traveller gladly accepts And in bargain forgoes possibilities richer and vaster Unbeknownst to he who doubtfully And half-heartedly pursues

For it is well known that Those who succeed, expect success Those who fail, fear failure The habitually fearful experience moments of hope The habitually hopeful experience moments of fear