Thursday, July 24, 2008

A good chance


refreshing like a bright color,
energizing in the sun,
dazzling me intricately
as a difficult dance,
but so easy to maneuver, natural.
no effort to keep pace.


at times beneath a storm, up,
we see black clouds, winds rage,
attempt oppressing without successing:
thunder shakes no fear.
I, the fool, lie lower,
gazing up at her exubrance,
defiance of a storm.

Come a fall

we'll both cling to, unsteady,
or lose all balance
and both go tumbling
down hill we've climbed.
I, Jack, hopeful my crown
will not break in twain
on way down from where aspired,
but we're not made of eggshells,

so we have a good chance.

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