Sometimes the thoughts of my future keep me awake,
And morning finds me weary, rising late.
I search for inspiration—what can I make?
Yet last night brought me peace; no dream did break.
I woke restored, my spirit felt elate.
Still, restless thoughts return to keep me awake.
At dawn I wandered down to fish the lake.
I longed for solitude, but fate brought a mate.
No choice was mine—I must see what I can make.
His presence jarred my rhythm, made me ache;
It shook my calm, disturbed my mental state.
That failed attempt at fishing kept me awake.
Next day alone, I saw a water snake.
Its sudden coil compelled my quick retreat.
Dejected, I resolved to see what I can make.
At last, alone, I cast, the silence opaque.
A silver catch! I cooked a perfect plate.
Sometimes the thoughts of my future keep me awake,
Yet from each trial I learn what I can make.
