Of what can I control?
What depends on me?
Patient contemplation,
Makes it clear to see.

To toil with externals,
Is priceless time just spent,
Like staring at a clock, but still,
In awe of where the time went.

So let me deal internal.
To what is mine...let me give care.
Let my soul be self sufficient.
In spite of all which it must bear.

Let me be quiet and reflective;
A disciplined citadel.
Write and read and practice,
No passion trite compel.

And even aims that promise despair,
I'll usher right in...if needed to.
For it all leads to my freedom,
And my quest for what is true.