but I'm not yet sure
which way the wind is blowing:
those clouds beyond the trees --
are they rolling in or out?
Is this light here to stay
or fading fast --
and if I knew, what would I do
differently?
Would I change the tune I'm humming
or change direction; walk back home,
in fear of what's to come?
For now, I choose to stand and savor,
feast on the flavors of light and dark,
the exhilaration of the moment
when neither has yet stolen the scene.
The battle's not yet won,
and the color's at its richest,
juicy with the promise
of a day that's waiting to unfold.
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