The challenge presents itself,
what stays, what goes.
Some of it is income,
a bit of money,
also tied to my self worth,
my contribution to the whole.
Can I push that aside
to concentrate on a passion
that brings no dollars or cents?
Fashion, poetry,
can I do both, do both well?
The scales heavy with options,
I do not know the answers.
My days full of anxiety, confusion,
these feelings uncomfortable,
I pace.
My time is limited, valuable,
I do not have the extravagance of youth.
My mind is muddied, clouded,
I await a storm,
thunder, lightning, driving rain,
a sliver of light, a direction.
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