Extreme Sport

Extreme Sport

I’ve heard
this human life
described as an
extreme sport,

but, instead of
hurtling down a
mountain goat
footpath on a
bicycle, or
diving from a
mile high pinnacle
with nothing but
a pair of gossamer
bat wings,

the challenge is
to face off
with the most
dire of human
dilemmas,
armed with
nothing but
Lovecraft.

This sport is
so sought
that souls are
lined up
around the block,
waiting for the
perfect
conception,
chosen by them
for the perfect
cellular fit,
soul to body.

But what of
this Craft of
Love?

What are its
tools?

And therein
lies the
the joy of it.

One soul chooses
hammer and nails,
another a
surgeon’s kit.
But just as well
an artist’s brush,
or a poet’s pen,
or a farmer’s
scattered seeds.

It’s up to you,
but here’s a thought:

Before you choose,
consider wandering
the aisles of a
shop in
the Heart of
The Mystery,
and don’t
settle
until you find
the perfect
tools.

If you like “Extreme Sport,” maybe you’ll like seeing my poetry books, and more poems, at stevegillard.com.