live.

It’s a pitter, a patter
A quick-deal matter
A song of gold
A story re-told.

Then it's gone, leaving us afraid to breathe, try, fall.  So, we wait.

We wait for better days…
Or so we say.
We think that time will tell…
Hoping all will be well.

But, there is a voice – softer and more persistent than all the rest.  It resounds in the innermost part of my heart, whispering a warning…  Life is too short.  Too short to not love and to not care – too short to not indulge in living.

And so I choose to breathe, try, fall.  I choose to live.