I stand only on the ground that I decide belongs to me, I walk into each morning like a careful scout, pacing the map, reading the wind, learning the ground I stand only on the ground that I decide belongs to me, I say no to quick challenges dressed up as glory because borrowed stages turn honest effort into noise I stand only on the ground that I decide belongs to me, I measure the cost, I check the light, I listen for echoes of traps disguised as friendly cheers I stand only on the ground that I decide belongs to me, when the world shouts “now or never”, I remember the long road and clear path that patience open…
True strength begins where reckless rushing ends, when the loud people flex their victories I keep my breath even, my hands steady, and my focus clean and plain True strength begins where reckless rushing ends, the heart that waits can see the moving parts and choose the right lever True strength begins where reckless rushing ends, I do not sprint into storms just to prove I am brave, courage wears boots, not even stakes True strength begins where reckless rushing ends, the strongest person is the one who refuses the circus, who closes the gate and sharpens the tools…
You may claim what I hold but not what I pursue, you can auction my furniture, stamp your name on my keys and even carry off the framed certificates You may claim what I hold but not what I pursue, because aim grows inward, steady as a star behind the clouds, the rain on those stormy nights You may claim what I hold but not what I pursue, you cam collect titles, empty rooms, and pay slips while I keep the core that started the work You may claim what I hold but not what I pursue, I will rebuild with quiet hands, laying one honest brick on another, guided by the direction is a decision not about decoration…
You can take my instruments but not the intention that guides them, steal the pen, break the staff, unplug the lamp, change the locks, scramble the passwords and even hide the call list You can take my instruments but not the intention that guides them, for those intention arrives that guides them for intention arrives without luggage and moves even when the road is closed You can take my instruments but not the intention that guides them, my craft lives in my method, in the questions I ask, in the care I bring to small steps You can take my instruments but not the intention that guides them, where there is attention and persistence, there is a workplace where there is fairness, there is brand…
Watchwords: My flesh may be borrowed but the path remains mine But the route is drawn by choices, by simple values the refuse detours You might corner fear in my room but you cannot corner direction that lives like weather The voyage keeps going even in a quiet harbor
Here is Tikatarot, who dares you to answer the question, “Who am I?”..
As and will always be reminding you to dream:
“As you are still the Master of your destiny and the maker of your dreams…”
