Crossroads
Sometimes there’s a crossroads
the direction a choice
made for us
or maybe by us.
Sometimes we see the crossroads;
feeling the weight of the decision
clearly pointing North or East
West or South.
And later. Looking back
through a lense of experience
wondering what if
or should
or maybe.
It would be nice if we could have
both
simultaneously
sliding between the now and the what if, fluidly
knowing that choice didn’t matter
cause we can feel it all and lose nothing.
Never questioning if we did the right thing, whatever that is.
But
there are the little choices. Tiny crossroads, every day.
Like a leaky roof, the water droplets
falling down with unapologetic force.
If there is no bucket to catch
the glorious liquidity
then it is just lost and splattered.
A vessel created from hope and intention
makes the
difference.
For it will hold that energy.
The choices compounded by repetition ~ integral and combined.
Therefore mighty.
And that’s where life truly exists.
Not in the crossroads.
But in the drip.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
Of how we live and love and flow.