Doing the same thing twice
and expecting a different result
Some call it courage
others, foolishness
Why do we believe we’ll emerge new
Same script, same actors, same bait
But a new will, a new mind—
suddenly making all the right calls?
Will we stare into what once blinded us
fight what numbed us—or
shake off what sticks,
(still) fall into the same holes?
Perhaps when nature softens-
A degree warmer (against blitzing wind)
A letter that arrives (right before desperation)
A word that didn’t drop (as the last straw)
You’ll find a way again
to give like how you’ve self-taught—
remembering that forehead kiss
as a trace of being loved.
Or perhaps the truest thing
is how courage and foolishness
are two sides of the same leaf,
lit by a different light.
Written on a late afternoon overground train ride—lucky to be accompanied by vibrant clouds and the soon-setting sun, a breezy cabin, and few passengers, so I could truly breathe.