The call has planted its seed,
And with great fervor, embedded its plan.
Has been clearing out the cobwebs
And unthawing the frozen man.
Every roadblock must be cleared.
Woe, the obstacles overwhelm
And the weakest link must be fixed
To enter the new realm.
From doubts with powerful opposition
Chain the man to low expectations.
The stiffening hold of regression
Locks him in unfavorable stations.
He once had a will and a power.
Energy and joy was his daily song,
But somewhere in life, it diminished
While laziness guides him along.
He can be more than he became.
A warrior turned to sludge.
Out of the hole, he must climb
Releasing the innermost drudge.
Can the call be enough for the man,
The will to try something new?
A cleansing of the soul.
To his whole self, he must be true.
The call has buried its seed,
While hope waters the plan.
It takes discipline and great work,
To rebuild the dying man.
The refurbished man can be great,
Ignoring the desire to quit.
He must resculpt his ambitions
And be willing to commit.
The storms will beat this man,
Throwing hailstorms and rain.
He must ignore them all,
While for greatness, he does train.
The closer he gets to his goal,
The stronger his body will be.
A strength inside has built,
While the quitter inside him will flee.
The call has planted its seed,
And with great fervor, embedded its plan.
Has been clearing out the cobwebs
And unthawing the frozen man.
___________________________________________________________________
The Call
By Stephanie Daich
