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Again.
the light.
the attempt.

Of course there's no fanfare.
there are no hymns.
I only see that half-shy light
that sneaks through the crack
and touches you,
in fact, it sometimes tells me
hey, it's your turn again.

and yes, it's my turn.
even if I don't have a brilliant plan,
or perfect strength,
or even breakfast planned.
still, it's my turn.

The day has already begun,
with or without my permission.
and it brings things.
some beautiful.
others crooked.
and others I don't even know how to name.

It's almost certain that maybe I'll stumble.
maybe I'll laugh.
maybe I'll have to bite my tongue
or open my mouth too wide.
you never know.

all I know
is that it's already begun.
and if I don't walk it,
it'll climb on top of me.
and it weighs more.

then, that's it.
Even if I don't understand everything.
Even if my spirit shakes a little.
Even if there are no clear signs or gentle maps,
I get up.
I dive into the day like someone diving into the sea:
You know you can't control it,
but you dive in anyway.
Because something is calling you.
Even if you don't know what.

And that's living,
Not having everything clear,
But moving forward anyway.
Adding up the minutes.
Looking at the sky.
Making mistakes.
Getting it right.
And if you can,
Try again tomorrow.

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