A Broad Stroke for Living

I cannot write my way back to your good grace,

the line is cut, the words returned, undeliverable.

And if we were to believe we are born just once,

will die just once, and all the choices in between

are ours to make the most of what we could,

choose then, with all the love and care,

to give entirely - in whatever ways that we felt best,

above our fear, shame and pride - ourselves,

so to live the questions that will be asked

as we crawl and skip and stride and shuffle

across the years - not to find the answers,

but to realize a life in all its possibilities

fully lived, never with regret, never be alone.