Both our deepest fear and most transcendent dream—
burrow deep within our deepest heart, not to be found
By those who search and search with just their hands.
It comes to us in darkest night, in most uplifted day
The seed to grow our lives into a memory.
It creeps quietly and sometimes sure
And sometimes shrinks from those who do not see, who will not see or know—
Future holds it cradled in her hand, to keep it warm and ready to become
Anything.
It is unknown.
The mystery of impossibility, of possibility, is great—
And we are afraid—
To take the leap, we must open like a flower in the sun
and trust—
we must.