Drawn: Pulled in Many Directions

In the quiet space
In between races,
Soaking up the solitude,
Feeling safe and calm,

These days fly along,
So I lose track,
Mixing up Days
And stuff like that.

Hot and cold,
Spring-like,
Coming along,
Seeking it’s own rhythm,

So I drink in
This rare interlude,
Before the next run
At all that needs to be done;

There’s a time for energy
And another for serenity
Or perhaps they can meet
One within the other;

Indeed this makes sense,
For how can they be apart?
To feel one,
One must know the other

Tranquil vigour
Infuses everything,
Even when
We’re one-sided,

Our perspective
Somehow seems to exclude,
Not sure how that works
Or what’s its purpose.