What do we think of as we travel along?  Oh so very long …

Are there jewels in our eyes?  Or darkness in our rooms? 

Hope in what will be?  Or despair in what has been? 

The colours of the rainbow so gracefully displayed?  Or just plain black filling the world?

The opening out into a stream of light?  Or the closing in of the ceiling, walls and floor?

The moistness on the dewy leaves?  Or the cracking of the dry lips?

The gentle pull forward towards the new?  Or the retreat backward into TV reruns?

Soaring to the heavens?  Or ground under heel in the dirt?

A sweetly spoken “Yes”?  Or the dismissive grunt of “No”?

***

And so we choose