like crocuses struggling to bring new beauty to last year's garden.
As I see the tiny, green growth of a new possibility,
the metaphorical door stays open.
Do I dare focus on the growing probability,
and move toward the new opening?
Or do I stay in stasis,
and let inaction move me past the door,
until it is firmly closed behind me?
Will I risk leaving the known for the unknown?
Can I spring through the open door,
or will I fall back into the comforting security,
of a daily schedule?
My mind is a teeter totter.
Action or inaction is the choice that rises and falls.
As I stand before,
an open door.