I have a happy way of making do,
Conforming to what circumstance presents,
And yet there are adventures to pursue,
New challenges and purposeful intents.
What seems like calm adaptability
May simply be a kind of laziness,
A sedentary, bland philosophy
Designed to shirk adventurous duress.
Yet “I have traveled far in Concord,” I
Will say, like Thoreau, who adventured wide
In his own neighborhood, and who would spy
Deep into his dark soul where truths reside.
Adventures of the mind and heart and soul,
Though sedentary, still can make one whole.