This is a couple years old

We discussed purity as opposed to pressure
Aimlessly driving, or so it would appear
Random streets turning, a disregard for direction
Distracted by energy drawn from a mug
Spur of the moment was the dish of the evening
Interest renewed with each matter at hand
Slightly more input than intake at times
Yet never veering from instinctual ease

Fate, a subjective topic at best
Led to lamentations concerning connections
Augmenting our own all the while
Steering through impulse, a disregard for direction
Propelled into imminence with every curve
Any avenue we came upon would have sufficed
But we chose only the roads we chose
Bound to coincidence or cause and effect
Our conclusion awaited unhampered by thought

We dwelled in purity as opposed to pressure
Redundant conundrums a forgotten commodity
At the corner we glimpsed two deer among the houses
Two spirits untainted amid structures man-made
Like liquid they leapt with disregard for direction
We paused for an instant, our awe was palpable
Then we proceeded with our own procession
Unaware of the mirror upon which we’d stumbled

Habitually reasoning
Blockading assumptions before they’re refuted
Caution lost for an instant
Overwhelmingly effortless in the jaws of restriction
Caution lost for an instant
Rapt by the lack of analytic suspicions
A disregard for direction
Is the method with which we’ll fashion our outcome