As I ponder on the ferocity of this forward movement, I breathe deeply and release my strangle hold.
Though there is so much movement, at times I feel as if I am standing still.
Not to stagnate, but to incubate, to nurture, to allow.
Each idea, each task, coming together in the ethers, waiting only for my inspired action.
Unable to tangibly visualise the final result, I feel my way through, following the thirst for variety and igniting passion.
What is to be does not govern this moment, yet I’m frozen amidst the longest list.
So in wait, the focus must shift to what is lighter.
None as consuming as the anticipation, rising like steam from the depths of my being.
Sitting idle in the carriage, bound to a relentless loop of my own making.
Though I relish the indulgent thought of the truth to come.
All will unfold in time.