Where do I feel most alive?
Is it in the arms of love?
In the swift, sad rain?
The first drop of coffee?
Or the dance of swans in the
clearest ponds?

I dont know what pushes me up
With the late morning sun
I dont know what tells me to
Swing along my pain
Like wine in a flask
I just do.

I come passing time with whatever.
I come enduring whenever.
I hang on a thin line
Of 'what ifs' and 'I guess(es)'
Holding my head on days
when I just dont know

I really don't
But I'll live to find out.