What if everything I did was wrong—
blunder after blunder—
who I married, how I raised my children,
what I chose to do instead of something else,
what I could have said but didn’t?
What if I always missed the point
and thought I understood
and went this way instead of that,
following what I thought was right—
my passion, my dreams, my sweat
sweeping me along as if guided by a star?
What if thinking I was wise and finding
I was foolish when I listened
to the whispering in my ear—
the words that came to me at dawn
inspiring me to find what I was looking for
and now I’m wondering where I am,
gasping like a fish washed ashore?
What if the sound in my ears is sour,
the music in my head off key,
the harmony sending shivers through my blood,
my eyes closed from the horror I am hearing?
But then, I think, what if I shake my head
and stop these questions--
just kick away this rock like an old tin can,
take a breath, then holding it deep,
let out a ferocious sigh,
shrug my shoulders,
look up at the rising sun,
and give it another try?