Propelling herself forward, but looking back at her life
She wished she’d lived it
Had cut through things
As cool and free-flowing as
Lebowski on a good day

Instead, an intricate substitution of spontaneity
Got her into unfortunate neurotic-types-of trouble
(It seemed a good idea at the time)
So inevitably her face fell frowning
Trying to force things the way she wanted
Scrabbling round with secrets and lies
Squashing out all the love
That was naturally inside anyway

When all along it was within,
As she was,
Her own patch of Zen