A Duck's Dilemma

Sometimes I feel like a duck out of water, The greener grass is the water when I fly And the water when I am natant. My feathers equally ambivalent My brain benevolently beset The curious quandary belied by the placidity of this Mirror in which I repose and reflect. Mywondrous will so disposed to inertia That I am quite averse to aviation But the mere kinesis of flight Prods my psyche to that profound euphoria. And then looms that not-so-ugly duckling To whom I am devilishly drawn. What manner of urgency beckons me? What end do I seek? Why is this predisposition so prevalent? Who is that pricks my pique and piques my prick? When will I no longer feel such, such, such ... love? And where is that Nirvana? I feel like the centipede that forgot how to run. Is there no outcome to this conundrum? No resolution to this pregnant poser? Too many options spoil my perspective And I cannot compute the consequences. To seek is not to have lost. To seek is the eternal evidence of Life As life is evidence of the eternal.