peeking out, only to slink away again, hiding through another cold and windy day.
Condensation on my skin feels like a whispered memory, rather than present tense
Perhaps I thought that winter would last forever.
Changing colors usher us into the Now,
and I am chanting my mantra internally, waiting for good news.
Not because I deserve it. Because it might come to pass.
Changing lenses, I realize that I am not set up for failure,
so much as I set myself up for endless possibility.
One day, chance and good energy and opportunity will align,
For now, I sip my water and try not to sink.
It is Spring.