I'm often intrigued by the future
trying to outsmart it, get there before it does.
Who wouldn't love to be psychic
see the potholes and pitfalls ahead.
Maybe if I think hard enough I'll see it;
it'll come to me like an abused dog
finally trusting the treat in my hand.
I know it's there all the time
tempting me with knowledge
capable of opening my eyes much wider.
Perhaps if I bargain with it just right
it will acquiesce to my burning desires
to know what lies ahead. Will he ever
love me? Will I move to a faraway land?
Will I give up living secluded to be
in the uncomfortable center of things?
So much to know, so much to ask for.
It's like feasting on a meal that will satisfy
not just today but in all days to come.
It's the sailboat found far from land
drawn in by a most bestowing tide.
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