Misty mornings are drenched with surprise.
Layer by layer they float off, revealing the hidden.
A landscape not there, shapes gone, color left.
Inviting dreams of what may be, what can come.
The door of possibilities opened, chances not taken.
Let the mists stay and shroud us in uncertainty.
Because nothing is the same as it was, its changed.
May we dare to plunge ahead, knowing the ground
May give, knowing the way uncertain, and fail, wonderfully.
Comments
Post a Comment