when all is not known and
when all is risked.
Without a word, we choose to act
or not. I'd rather take that flying leap
all by myself,
than dither between,
waiting for someone else to decide.
Even so, spring brings early pink blossoms:
we breathe change in with each passing day
and exhale, not always aware of the gifts
around us. We hesitate, perhaps we talk again,
or make travel plans on paper.
I'd almost rather hold hands than decide our future,
unfolding before us, for after all,
what remains is just this precious now.
|Spring at Manito Park (Camp)|