ACT

A sort-of acrostic poem

I wrote this poem after complaining about a lot of things and not doing anything in particular about the things that I was complaining about. To be more specific, I was making excuses for past and current oversights, and wrote a poem to push myself forward into the easy yet uncertain work of confidently doing something about it, even something small. Here’s ACT:

A journey of a thousand miles
    begins with a single step,
    a precise action,
    a moment of life or death
    that seems so purposeless,
    so lacking in depth
    compared with the journey
    that isn't there yet.
 
Can you make it that far?
    to the first, blind step?
    to the start of the road,
    not yet into your car?
    Slow speed, it reads
    to your eyes, aggrieved,
    yet the only true way
    to honestly proceed.

To walk thousands of miles,
    you'll need to jump into it,
    feet first, dedicated,
    not wanting to quit
    at the first sign of silence
    attendant on steps
    that you thought unimportant
    until there are none left.

As I mentioned last week, I haven’t been shouting out anyone because I haven’t subscribed to anyone new on here in a while. I don’t read things on Substack very often, other than to be ridiculous in the notes section and when something really catches my eye. There’s a ton of talent on here, though, and when I find someone whose every post I can get behind in some fashion (my criterion for subscribing), I’ll let you know.

Until then, please remember me, who loves to write monthly poems tailored to your specifications for $10/month. Thanks to everyone for reading along.