Peace. If only this could be the path chose more often. If only we could see our destination from our first tentative steps in it's direction. Those we choose too often seem filled with uncertainty of what is around the bend. Sometimes we are surprised and delighted. Others still, we find the azure sky over run with ominous, darkening clouds.
Anxious. What does the future hold? In thinking about tomorrow, we look at our hands only finding today has slipped through our fingers, swiftly. As if our worry could add more days, yet only takes them away.
Release. Little hand folding into mine, reminding me that you are there. Anxiousness seeps out of pores, forming puddles on the ground. Fading with our footsteps as we boldly return to the path to face whatever is to come. Together.