In the morning as I brushed my teeth I vowed to mark the day by valiant ways: To rescue orphans, open up a shop, Write that novel, win that maiden’s heart, Climb that hill, convince a bitter friend Of God’s wide mercy, till the soil, plant The choicest vegetables, grill meat Upon an open flame. In short, Engage in derring-do, And leave upon the earth a healthy brand. Instead I shuffled off toward my job
The tree-struck star stuck the landing, Knees nailed to ground, brow down, Soul still ensconced in briar crown. Apart from Him he’d hewn to Aspirations, plans He’d blewn to Smithereens; and left bereft he Clung to holy barque.