Toolbag

Inside and outside

Lay the tools to a fruitful life

Made of iron, steel, and listening.

At my belt, the tools alternate

And I am often unprepared

For the occasion

Yet always running and sweating

to fill my toolbag.

Good news

Like a blinded moth
I spin around in the middle air
Turning turning with no way to stop.
The excitement captured me
And I live the moment
With its silly giggles and ambitious prospects
For the future.

Lost at sea

It is Difficult to see
What is behind my back
On this rare foggy day of summer.
I am stick on the present
and in the lack of memory of this grey cloud.
The direction is list for a moment
But the lighthouse is always on
Out there.