by J.E. Beville
I keep removing myself
For long and delicate adventure.
Now on the journey's third leg
Again brave and tall.
This, the great risk thrice, where
Fortune looks like fear.
If you look it in the eye,
Things you can't even dream.
I never dreamed
I'd find the answer to the oldest question.
You'd never guess I was looking,
You think only in cold cash.
In a way this was all you ever wanted
You push too hard and it happens exactly
An ugly wish for everything and nothing
The path to the path.