It is a longing that
Importunes us relentlessly
That plagues the noblest souls
A longing to get to something
To improvement; to clarity
To health; to wealth; to God
To not lose the hour
To not waste the day
Depriving us of any
Rest or peace

Yet, these thoughts
That overwhelm you
Will not be silenced
Placated or directed
To run away from them
Is to keep suffering the pain
Of encountering them and the
Bewilderment of the sudden
Dawning of their implications

But if you can bear to face them
Instead of only half hearing or
Seeing what irritates or pleases you
If you can invite them in
By considering possibilities
For them to spontaneously explore
Their aggressive insistence
Their violence and impatience
Becomes a new voice
Which you slowly
Recognise as your own