A poem I wrote after swimming into the lane line in a pool in Florida while being too preoccupied with the future.

Stay in your lane

He told me

As I backstroked into the lap divider.

Too distracted by my brain

to focus on my hands

guiding me where they should.

Too impatient

to know the results of the future

so much so

that I am removed from the present.

And with that gentle contact,

God reminds me

Chill out with the planning

The fretting

The agonizing

Trying to control the future.

I’ve got it figured out.

So trust the process

Be patient with me

And stay in your lane.