sometimes the warning is too late, we’ve already gotten our feet wet
the sense of wanting a powerful desire is no match for time
we need to step back and revisit yesterday to get somewhere new
we can’t see beauty unless we first are open with a quiet heart
it’s all consuming when we’re stuck in the middle but then it passes
at moment’s notice the call could come; you’re needed! until then we wait
colors can be changed a new look, but underneath the metal still rusts
sometimes the story isn’t about the ending it’s the passing through
we might not choose where but we can always choose why ideas matter
where two paths converge opportunity awaits proceed with caution
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