Oh how the skies
abhor tedium
even in their greyness
preferring tempests and lightning
sunbeams and rainbows
to flatter sweet violets in
neverending rebirth
as the gods sow their chaos below.

Rapture is not for the timid
nor joy the fate of the fearful
beware the lure of the past
dull temptation of comfort and solace
pressed flowers in books
drawers dusty with memories
for time soon devours it all.

In each moment choose hope
heed the call of the sprite
that sings out your name
in chords filled with risk
the adventures will lead you
to the unexpected and new
where everything waits.