at the end of this stick?
Why do we continue to embrace
the harder way; to walk
the more challenging path?
It cannot be for a one-day thrill --
the card, the flowers,
the ugly crocheted scarf --
however dear, they cannot be
sufficient motivation.
What drives the constant
setting aside of self
and selfish needs?
It could be just responsibility,
but no: look into your heart,
feel the babe again in your arms
and know the power of love.
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