One of my dearest friends, G., sent me this poem nearly a year ago. With my father back on the other side of the country, I am returning to my own devices reflecting about why I do what I do and the solitude that seems to always follow me on my journey. This poem says it so well.
I will not die an unlived life.
I will not live in fear
of falling or catching fire.
I choose to inhabit my days,
to allow my living to open me,
to make me less afraid,
to loosen my heart
until it becomes a wing,
a torch, a promise.
I choose to risk my significance,
to live so that which came to me as seed
goes to the next blossom,
and that which came to me as blossom,
goes on as fruit.