there are too many threads
pulling on me
many roads and small paths
and the wilderness as well
i fear choosing wrongly
thinking somehow i might miss
myself
i might miss my own life
i want to set my bow down
and lie on the bottom of my chariot
escaping this action
again i am reminded
that will not do
i must rise and reach out
step onto the path
any of these that call to me will suffice
there can be no mistake
hold something
like a flower on a garland
take one and all the rest
are coming
pick another one the same
choose the one that fits the fragrance
of your instinct
your signature
you will hold the universe
in your hand
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