Cutting through, holding back the river
The weight of it all is waiting to shine through.
A squirrel perched, opens its arms – allowing for a movement
With the focus of free form flight.
Wouldn’t it be nice to trust our own judgement
Basking in the glory
Of the single beam on repeat
Skipping over that last part
Saw how you jumped ten feet
Saw how you talked the talk
conversing with yourself
Getting that there answer
in the form of a question unasked.