CHANCE. 🎲

There is no shame in betting on love,

Returning to it as time returns its gaze

To that which is precious to us

It is simple and pure to water a plant daily,

Seeing change not in any passing moment,

But noticing its presence at subtle times of day,

After much time spent away.

Trusting in its ability to grow,

To weather’s call, we trees will recall,

Shedding our tears of orange and yellow,

Searching for spring, its new leaf and meadow.

Hope sprinkles rain, and trust whispers in the breeze.

Every flower deserves a chance to face the sun and breathe.