Learning the Shape of Better

I wish to grow a little more each day,

I'll read some books and hope I find a way.

Yet still I say that I will truly try,

And maybe soon the work will tell me why.

So I will work to grow a bit each day.

I mark the faults I used to turn away,

Then shape a plan to practice every day.

I test my thoughts and try to school my mind,

Through patient drills the rougher parts I grind.

The slow small gains return me to the day.

I chart the steps that lead me up the climb,

And keep a steady rhythm out of time.

Each error marks a lesson set in stone,

The chisel of repeat begins to hone.

Until the road itself invites the climb.

I learn that craft is patient tending fire,

Small sticks of habit feed the growing fire.

The smoke of doubt may wander soft and slow,

Yet breath by breath I guide the steadier glow.

And guard the will that kindles into fire.

I watch the patient grammar of the tide,

And shape my labor to the turning tide.

For failure writes a margin where I learn,

And steady work becomes the sure return.

So day by day I move beside the tide.

I test each thought as smiths assay a frame,

Then heat and strike until it holds a frame.

Their hidden cracks ring slowly to the ear,

And truer lines through listening appear.

At last intention settles in the frame.

I start to sense the contour of the light,

That falls on flaws and renders edges light.

No foe remains so stubborn as within,

I meet that doubt and patiently begin.

To write a steadier grammar out of light.

The scattered drills assemble into art,

Each humble task now takes a living part.

The road behind grows difficult and long,

Yet miles of trial have tuned the will to song.

And quiet pride moves gently through the art.

Now language bends with greater grace and care,

Each chosen word accepts a weight of care.

The patient years have tutored heart and mind,

Through doubt and work a steadier self I find.

And craft at last becomes a form of care.

Through patient change I learn what I become,

The daily forge remakes what I become.

No final height concludes the work I do,

Each dawn reveals a deeper task to do.

The road itself is what I have become.