Revise

We hope we have cleared behind us; the pathway each day we made.
Yet, shadows cast both afore & aft; some part always in shade.

We know which way we are headed & we know from whence we’ve come.
Though, much drops from sight between the turns, life has no tidy sum.

Adding to the world each day, we hope to leave more than we take.
Still, death’s the dot on every story; it matters what we make.

Much will go to rot while peoples fight for imagined patches.
Time-proof lines just don’t exist & our maps are nowt but scratches.

Maybe we should throttle down on counting all of our movements.
Out-create what’s been destroyed & plan tomorrow’s improvements.