Floating.

Observing the emotion that nips at my heels.

Observing the mundane that weaves in and out of my life.

Floating, seeing where I was, where I am, where I could go

If I could just figure out the direction.

Pausing, over the things for which I have longing.

Pausing, over the things that were once so sweet,

Now so bitter.  Or, just gone tasteless.

Sighing, over the things that could be yet to come.

Without certainty.

In slow circles I float, and I see them, and I wonder

If they are what I want.

Do I know?

How nice to have a perch where I can see it all.

All the choices, past and present.

Even the future, if I choose the path.

How I got here, where I am headed.

Choose and float back down.