I didn't sleep so well last night.

I realized that this year I've lost all clear sense of a dream to pursue. So much has gone wrong these last few years.

There's a quiet in my heart where a lot of goals once sat.

Mind you, it's a lot less painful then when I had to leave academia.

But it's a dangerous thing to live without direction or hope.

Nevertheless, this is the land I'm walking in for now. (The world is, too!) The aim is to tread carefully, and see what arises in the new terrain.

@MLClark

Speaking of rough nights and walking, these are offered in solidarity, and with empathy and hope.🧡

@MLClark (Of course, with Whitman, there is always more, lol)

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/48859/song-of-the-open-road

@LiseL

Whitman's story is dear to me, so this was a beautiful suggestion, thank you.

Whitman spent decades bouncing between work, trying to find stability in the tumult of industrial collapse and political unrest. Though he first published Leaves of Grass in 1855, he kept working on it until his death in 1892. An edition published in 1868 built his fame, but he could only afford a home in 1884, age 65. So he did indeed spend his life--as a volunteer medic as well as in prose--on the move. 💛