discipline

Second Wind

Standard

Sometimes during

a game of inches,

you will have a crisis of confidence.

You will feel as though

you’ve given everything

before you’ve finished,

and lament

the end of your journey

before the climax.

What else is left?

I dig deeper,

in a panic,

and realize there’s nothing.

The doubter’s voices crowd my head,

and they all sound familiar.

No fuel, not even a hint

of fumes to run on,

but I run on

when I was sure I was spent.

The naysayers

continue their tirade,

but I pay them no mind.

The march continues

and the runner’s high kicks in.

I’m going to do the greatest

act of defiance

that I know —

I’m going to make it

to the end.

Pig Iron

Standard

I will serve you well

but please be patient with me,

take great care because I’m brittle.

Have your finest blacksmith

forge me with precision, fold and fold

until I hold an edge that slices through armor

Like a scythe through long grass,

I am purpose-built.

Then have craftsmen

pour their hearts out

ornamenting, doting on and refining me

so that I’m form meets function.

I’m impure, but that’s not to say

that I’m not worth it.

The discipline it took to make me pales in comparison

to what it takes to wield me.

Keep me polished, oiled and sharpened.

Hold me tight,

and swing lightly,

I will do the rest.

When you sleep,

keep me on the wall,

so no harm comes to me.

If you bring me with you,

young samurai,

keep me sheathed

unless I’m absolutely needed,

so I can’t harm a soul.

Keep me safe,

and I’ll do the same.

I’m a little rough around the edges,

but if you’re looking for a fine sword,

I will serve you well.