And He's Off!

I had a very brief inner struggle about the morality of starting this blogathon with a poem that I have already written, but considering both my present state of mind current unwillingness to be yellowish, I've decided that to begin in the past is permissible.

This poem hearkens back to before the mission. The date was November 11th, 2004. I surprise myself because, honestly, I'm not really sure what I was trying to say. I guess it's normal for me to write meaningfully ambiguous poems

Personal Quest

Nooks, crannies, crags, and cracks,
behavior and the brain, so folded.
Each fold, what does it hide?
A statement, a gesture, so telling
behavior and brain coincide.

A candle, burning, upon a stick,
trying to abolish darkness,
is lit, the light so stark
casts shadows in the crags
and accents all the dark.

I hold my light, small but growing,
and go forth, forth to meet the night
one step, two, my light grows dim
unsure, I wait. One moment, two.
Cradling the flame, the wick I trim

Carefully, slowly, the precious flame
peeks, finds room, grows brighter,
not enough to fill the space,
Not yet, but shows one step
one step on the path I trace

One step ahead I forge
this is my quest:
going forward, that is all,
and if you pass me, alright;
I'll reach you at the final call.