The sun came out again today,
yellow tulips still blooming
after the snow, under a blue sky.
It was like a breath of fresh hope.
I went back to the labyrinth
via the hiking/biking trail, bluebells
hanging their heads beside empty benches.
My walking meditation had a focus:
Will I regret...? As I wound around
the pattern like thread on a spool,
not like the thread in the minotaur's cave
to find a way out (I always find my way out),
I warmed in the sun, I felt like spun
sugar on a paper cone, pink or blue
at the fair, light and sweet, insubstantial,
more like air than water, but I am water,
and bone in skin, and substantial enough
to be alive without regret.