Tightrope Poem by Alysza Ripley

I look beyond the future,
I look behind the past.
The bluebird sings;
The lion yawns.
Sunlight dawns as
Ballerinas dance in
Music boxes to lullabies.
Yellow woods stretch before me,
Two branches growing out of one.
Do I take the road well known
Or the one less traveled on?
It is my story to write; the
Blank pages sit before me.
Do I dare to write?
Open the dirty window and
See clearly.
Walk outside and
Dance in the rain.
Do I let myself feel it?
Do I dare to try?
What will come of tomorrow?
Do I dare to dream?
Life is ever changing, though the
Sun rises and sets everyday.
The yellow wood has two paths.
The house has two doors.
The bluebird sings two songs.
The heavens let down rain more than once.
Dance.
Laugh.
Life is not a tightrope.