~*~
Uphill,
downhill,
then up and down
again.
East side,
west side,
then 'round about
the bend.

Pacing,
racing,
stressing to
extreme.
Someone stole
my paddles,
now I cannot row
up stream.

If I were in,
canoe again,
and simply
went with flow,
I'd be heading in
the opposite way,
of where I'd want
to go!

You may ask,
why buck
the tides,
they fight you
tooth and nail.
Why not head,
down easy creek,
and raise a tall
wide sail?

Perhaps the thief,
who took my oars,
prevented me
from failing.
For I changed my path,
let go of wrath,
and now my life's
smooth sailing!
~*~