In youth there is urgency,
in the blood,
pounding in your temples,
when desire is only
inches and an instant away.
It’s like falling.
You can no longer catch yourself.
You can’t even look back,
the inevitable screaming up at you,
the consequences racing down behind.
After youth, when urgency prevails
it is somehow tempered.
Yet in deeper, more compelling ways,
there is a demanding spirit set upon your will.
Although the mind more dominates;
the body still responds,
still flirts with the precipice,
tempts the fall and baits the will.
“Follow me.” It whispers,
“There is nothing out here but the night.”