Motivation comes and goes,
Like cold waves on a sandy shore,
With high tides of learning loads,
And low tides of learning woes.
But through the storms,
And roughest seas,
The motivation that pushes me,
Is an urge to know what comes next.
What piece of knowledge,
Like driftwood floats,
On the waves,
Towards my thoughts.
And as the rougher the sea,
The larger the driftwood,
The rougher the learning,
The larger the reward.
I cannot command the sea,
My motivation commands me,
To paddle along the shallow shoreline,
And gather up the interesting sticks I find.
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Like stars.
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