migration

birds fly South for the winter, and i fly out East next month for the sheer excitement! migration. it's an instinct i have come to know well. adaptation. an endless sea of newness. what's next. i don't know. with doors ajar i never know what to expect. i just keep on... i just keep going on.

and that goes for my Lenten pledge too... my share of unholy hours are always before me. my mind is always the first to give in, and so i'm rendered helpless. i think i'm tempted beyond my means when all i really had was power. power to keep... on... keeping... on.