Ruts

For just a moment I was worried there
That we were stuck in something of a rut.
It wasn't much more than a minor scare,
Hardly worth my mentioning it. But
These moments come more frequently these days,
And build to greater worries as they rise.
I try not to be bothered when they raise
Those bigger problems, yet although one tries,
It isn't easy. How can I relax
When we so often find ourselves in stress?
We overtrace again the same old tracks,
Routines that whose boundaries we never press,
Yet fill with troubles, minor, yes, at first;
But who can ever recognize the worst?