238 – Wild monkeys

Feet chase each other
Down the rocky trail.
Like caged big cats
Thoughts roam the mind.

A trip and a near-fall
Pull all senses back
To the here and now,
To the task at hand.

Like slippery snakes
Doubts and troubles
Sneak back in,
Then scream like angry monkeys.

Will I make the deadline?
Will they like the job?
Am I good enough?
Is there something more?

Their voices try to rise,
But the trail demands,
The trail does not forgive.
They grow silent.

The mind grows clearer
With every thrust and step,
Until all that exists
Is the trail.

They will come back, I know,
With more twisted fears
And doubts, and endless puzzles.
But not today, not now.

For this moment, at least,
While I’m one with the trail,
That is not my circus,
Those are not my monkeys.

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