Work Forever in Progress
Hundreds of lines later,
I have nothing to show
except if you count
a sense of accomplishment in having
been faithful to a commitment, in having
persisted steadily in the face of the
unseen and unknown, in being
somewhat soothed by the simple
process of having given a little
heart and soul to something
simply because I could.
However I came to exist,
I think I might be a little bit
the same kind of puzzle myself,
imperfect and utterly incomplete,
but nicely so, for all of that–
nicely, because,
after all, I am working my way
toward being something at last,
and whether I have
an encompassing purpose or not,
I have at least

