[Poem] The Archer's Aim

 

The archer stands, a steady form,

Eyes fixed upon the coming storm.

The target waits, a distant speck,

His mind a canvas, clear and unchecked.

 

He breathes and lets distractions fade,

No thought remains, no words are said.

The bow an extension, a trusted friend,

As focus guides until the very end.

 

The arrow flies, a silent prayer,

Through doubt and fear, a path laid bare.

For in that moment, time stands still,

Focus reigns, with perfect will.

 

So let us learn from archer's art,

To aim with purpose, play our part.

With focused mind, we take our stand,

And hit the mark in life's grand plan.