Indecision
I entangled myself in the trailing ropes
Of a glorious hot air balloon.
It drifted close by the ground,
Taking me gently along on its entrancing ride,
Never soaring too high or far, so I could
Let go, at any time, and find my place again.
I grew enamored of wind rushing through my
hair,
Believing the grandeur of distant horizons,
And never realized the balloon had taken flight,
Soaring high above the hills and rivers.
And now I hang on the edge of indecision.
If I let go, I may never fly this high again.
If I don't let go, I will never get back
To my safe, familiar world.
What can I trust now that I am caught up
In this ride? Each has its own death for me.
To whom can I reach out?