(..........26aug3) Talking Ambition Poem by Max Reif

I got up this morning and the dim
pink in the distant sky
made the drooping willow tree
some unknown color, as the world,
bathed in mystery, slowly, drowsily awoke,

and I set out upon its pathways
in my car, following a winding back road
that led to another road,
that let to many others, so you know
I could have wound up anywhere.

Gazing out at the pink sky
and the willow and the hills beyond,
I saw no limits to joy
except the one thought:
'I've got to go back to work soon! '
That's after these four days off,
four unbounded days to explore,

but come Thursday I run into a wall,
faraway as yet, but you know how these things are,
limits arrive speeding down time's freeway,

and I thought, 'If only
I were making my living as an author,
I could dream beautiful dreams
and be given livelihood,

and 'work' would not be work,
any more than a fountain
works to bring forth waters,

and I would work in the morning,
many hours, and then walk around
among the people and animal and plants,
all lovable figures in God's great Dream,

and I can see myself as a fountain of joy,
as happy as a person can be,
a fountain whose waters give life and health
and show the way
to the Source of water