There is this loop that we were born into

Not one of death necessarily, but one circling just outside of life

One in which the work of our hands are efforts to fund the desires of our heart

I never quite understood the necessity to pay for permission to live

Being birthed into this world was my authorization

An approval that can only be forfeited, not revoked

Sure, every pursuit requires work, but what about the work that requires pursuit?

My to-do list will bow down to my will-do responsibility

Stop the clock on the countdown to retirement

Start adding up the nights that I rest with satisfaction and anticipation

Birthed by a dream, molded by a goal, motivated by a purpose, died on a mission