I was born to be a dilettante
I am not sure
That’s something
I can or should
Say (or change) in this day and age
While I am more than a dabbler
more than a babbler
There are times I relish dawdling
Boomeranging from rest to readiness
Idle images morph from
Mindless Exploration
To Earthen Excavation
My garden flourishes
Until I forget to water it
Ever intrepid
Sometimes just plain stupid
First, traversing inner terrain
Then, stepping forward
A goat on a rope
Never a net below
Setting off on hikes without a map
charting my course by the sun
Curious Cloud watcher
Curating beauty
Pulling threads
Unraveling books of the dead
Turning over tarot cards
Shaking Magic 8 balls
