The Trackless Path

Don’t move around too much.

And be careful not to be lured

By that which costs too much

Of your precious time and means, 

Especially by that which invites to MORE

When MORE is obviously too much

Or comes laden with complexities and waste.

Right here, without reaching out for more,

Except in the listening for

The next word

That leads on to the New and more abundant Life

Where everything is provided right here

And without reaching out for more.

Looking back in the rearview mirror of life,

I see the past diminish out of sight.

And looking into the future 

Of the promise that’s decreed,

I see the hope of restoration of all that

Which I have lost in choosing not to fight.

“I ordain that it be slippery for 100 years,” he said.

And then I woke up from the dream. 

For a long time, I mourned 

Over this decree.

But now, I see

That it is a relief to know

That it will roll out in waves.

So that, I can notice my progress and say

Not bad for the first five years. Let’s see 

If I can hold on to the new life

For a little longer next time.

And all of it so that

My children’s children’s children 

May enter in to go not out forever.

He’s only sixteen, 

And completely unprepared for life.

So was I. I had no idea what it was like.

But that’s ok. He’ll live it anyway. And so have I.

Surely he’ll break up and flounder.

And maybe he’ll get “right”.

I don’t know if I’ve ever done that.

But that’s ok. I live it anyway.

And he will too.

And it is the best we have to give.

And when we love each other, that’s still something.

Hot air balloons hovering over the city.

I wonder where they land.

Somewhere. And I don’t understand

How they do that. But they do.

I am like a balloon 

Now that I think about it.

It's private property, they say.

That’s right for now. For now,

It’s in your power to endlessly seek gain

Without a thought of those who have no place.

But the tables are about to turn everlastingly

In the favor of those whose home

Is not of this world.

I always thought, when people said “work harder”

That they meant to work faster,

To be more busy,

More rushed.

Hustle is the word that comes to mind.

And I’ve never been good at that. 

I struggle to sustain it

Since it so often comes with a kind of anxiety 

As if I am making up for an inherent deficit.

But I have found a new meaning for “work harder”:

Work more consistently, without stopping, overthinking, or getting distracted

As long as it takes, until the project is completed.

I find this definition to be far more useful.

It is extremely effective for getting things done

And much more peaceful than what I thought they meant.

I once heard that strangers who wandered into Sodom

Were robbed, beaten, sometimes raped, and then cast out.

I'm not sure if that's completely true, but if so,

No wonder such a city met with fire from the skies.

I once heard from a homeless person 

That the hardest city to survive in

Was the second-largest city

In the state that makes its living

From gambling and prostitution.

Lure them in, take their virtue and their money,

Leave them broken, then spit them out,

Chase them away, from the sight of those

Who make their living on the process.

And I can't help but think that fire waits

To pour itself down on such a place.

There seems to be power in quietly continuing

After others have retired from the game.

It is not the kind of power that will save your soul.

But it is good for getting ahead when you’ve fallen behind

So long as you have shed unnecessary incumbrances

And embraced simplicity and frugality.