when you’re only halfway up…

perhaps i’m just a product of my time–a young/old man who has been too reluctant to commit to any one thing.
why close the door when you can leave it open?
why have your cake and eat it to, when you really want to be in a quantum superimposed state of not having, having, eating and not eating–the delicious state of heightened expectation that can only end badly when the choice is made and the cat is killed?
how many times have i asserted with utter finality: this is it, this is my one and true calling…perhaps i was made to never make a firm decision about anything.
of course, that’s not completely true, either. i have made firm decisions about things–like marriage and children. i have no interest in ever getting married again…i would sooner join a monastery than try to enter a dating scene as an old man, if such a thing were to present itself.
but, when it comes to who i am, and who i’m supposed to be–that’s a different subject altogether.
should i stay or should i go? yes.
the grand old duke of york marched me only halfway up the hill.
schroedinger is happy with where he’s keeping me, his cat.
maybe making no choice at all is still making a choice, to paraphrase Rush,
but being caught in a state of endless freedom to still choose again, and again, is choosing to always have unlimited choices before me.
of course, that’s not really the state of this reality. the choices grow fewer and fewer and the years add up.
until one day, the choices will only be: die with dignity, die fighting my death, or just plain die.

when you begin

when you begin to walk again in this direction,
you’ll find a flow that fits well with your affection.
you who would treasure mysteries and travel far,
when it’s clear you can’t afford to fill up your car.

once upon a time you asked for us to bind up your mind
in a tidy, tight package that attracted a savage or two
and filled a few pages with pretty little cages of blue.
if it was seeking you hoped to do, then what you’d find

are obnoxiously simple rhymes dictated by the stars,
or some other such distant novas of brilliance past mars
and pluto and the ninth planet nibiru’s reflection.
some voice declares, “you’ve made your selection,

“and now you must decide yourself to leave behind
all of the awfully commonplace things you used to do
in favor of a priestly kind of life with sages of Wu,
it is the life for you that we so carefully designed.”