I bought fresh sketchbooks and new pencils,

dreamed of greatness, and plotted my course.

Some days I paddle as hard as I can,

and some days I dream of paddling as hard as I can.

Even more, some days I dream of dreaming,

and at that point, I am not paddling.

My eyes are trained on the shore,

not far from me and my little boat.

The journey to the other side seems so far from here,

and the waves conspire to knock me off my route.

Even still, I will push on,

away from the comfort of dreaming,

toward the reality of doing.

Today is not the day I become a master,

rather one day closer.