Like most people, I occasionally face days where the patterns and duties of my current place in life seem less than fulfilling. On those days, I tend to dream about a possible future career in academics. This fancy passes rather quickly, though, when I remember how often I've felt the richness of God's favor in my present line of work, and of how implausible a return to the academy would be at this point in my life. So here's a poem celebrating my wishy-washiness, written in the classic terzanelle form.
On Days of Discontentment
On days of discontentment,
I dream a new horizon
Beyond my disenchantment.
Then with a brief orison,
Imploring the Maker's hand,
I dream a new horizon:
A wild and beautiful land,
Where I can find adventure,
Imploring the Maker's hand.
And so I paint a picture
Of new studies, new careers,
Where I can find adventure
In a future bright and near,
Thinking of the greener grass
In new studies, new careers.
But these thoughts, they quickly pass
On days of discontentment,
Thinking of the greener grass
Beyond my disenchantment.