The Wellspring

Are someone else's hands
craftier than mine?
Is someone else's line
my line?
Another's circle
my emblem of eternity?

Is it their color
I want to match,
their vigor and poise?

Dangling in front of me
is my own conversation
My own high wire
to jump.

Here is my own fate to follow
My own soul to guide me
to the edge of the wellspring
where newness
beckons me to enter
and indulge in the great offerings
of life mixed with
age, masters and musings

and trust that the path
is already there
and all I have to do
is meet it halfway.