Recover excitement, a reclamation project, but one where only shallow digging should be necessary. Oh, gratitude and its morning renewal, grant me that! Much excitement was spilled as overambitious youth tried to carry too much. Instead of taking a suitable amount or even a heavy load that could finally be delivered with extra effort, the too ambitious youth that I was overdid even a doable sort of overdoing and spilled it all in the process! The excitement, the fluttering restlessness as it all compounded and then, finally, the great spill.
I've walked away from it, or at least taken a few steps, not quite ashamed but a little dismissive of past excesses. But this is not the long-term answer, though as an initial reaction, it is understandable. What is now to occur is this: I return to the scene of the wreckage. Strewn across the ground is still much that is usable, and dreamworthy! An excitement recovery effort, worthy of the last vestiges of young adulthood.
Oh, my youth is limber; I've stretched it all these years, I can still touch my toes, a slight graying of my beard notwithstanding. What use has my delay been if not for this moment? I've held on to my youth for something, for this recovery effort which will give it its ultimate meaning and passport to journey further on.