When you know what you ought to do,
When you know what it is you want
All the pieces fit together.
The discontent, the feeling of being lost,
The endless search and the failures,
The lack of joy while you tried to do
That what is not and was never
What you really wanted to,
It all starts to make sense.
The bird finally stops running
With its little feet, towards the finish line,
It spreads its wings wide and soars
to the height, it was meant to reach.
In doing only what its heart desires
It does something magnificent,
It changes the picture of the landscape.
Poetry © Copyright 2017, Opinionated Head