Day 86: The Only Choice

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At the divides in life:

the broken bridges,
the crags and ridges,
the lefts or rights,
the fights or flights,
the nos or yeses,
the mores or lesses,

we choose.

 

sometimes holding is not an option and choice comes upon you like hail.

(and you thought it was just raining, didn’t you?)

 

it’s there, under ice,
when the pelt
you felt
swells into welt,

you react
and chose

something

for better or worse

 

to get away from the pain
or the fear of more ice coming.

and in the shelter of that outcome –
when the hail has stopped and the skies are clear again –
you wonder if you chose well.
wisely.
right.

 

o you little choices –
you shooting stars –

with the passing of time
have matured into mountains
too steep to be climbed.

now. dry. clearing sky.
how do we face the choices we chose?

we can hide them,
deny them,
heartily defend them,
perpetually repent them,

but to undo we cannot do

they’re not bargained slaves in ugly trade
they are not painted up and prettier made
they are ours and solely owned
they cannot be sold
they cannot be loaned

we cannot reverse ourselves in time,
just as fallen lights
back to the heavens cannot climb.

so here in this moment, come sit with me, choices
like children,
like ages,
let me see you,
hear your voices.

I’ll no longer judge you
or shamefully begrudge you
you were young once,

and so was I.

and together,
we’ll know better,

though hail still downward flies.

 

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