That’s the way.

It’s a hard thing, this beast of life, snarling
Spitting, snorting toward death, always charging
Unstoppable, loud and unmannered
Reason and logic mean nothing, are nothing
In its path…simply puddles to be stepped through
To be stomped on splashing on pants legs
The beast of life blind and roaring forward
An endless journey dragging us all
We try to construct a holding pen
In our heads and hearts
Gates and fences and ways to stop the beast
Keep it from escaping, control it
Learn it, make it calm and quiet and slow but
Fences can’t stop it
Not walls of brick or steel
It rumbles forward, our feet sliding, skidding
Holding its tail with a white knuckle grip
Trying to look around the beast
Where it goes, who it goes toward

What lies beyond where we can see
Let go, can you?
Run forward, orbit, get in front
The only way
Still doesn’t stop but it will follow
Wherever you go
That’s the way.

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