My eyes have cleared, a solid path lays finally under me.
Somewhere between the brutality of carelessness,
The exhilaration of flight,
And the determination to set fire to new growth with retaliation,
My feet found solid ground,
And the hunger in my soul has turned from anger to a quiet rumble.
The road of my life rests sedately in my palm,
And while its length bridges out to obscurity,
Keeping the details from my sight,
I and it are content just to exist firmly in the surrounding reality.
It seems my hours of existing in a state of shifting inconstancy
Have faded, leaving me distilled
Truly, being solid is not the plague I had guessed.
It’s not so terrible