River's Edge A mote of finest cosmic dust Shimmering in the starlight glow Trembling on the edge of a ripple Thrust along the rivers flow Languishing in dark repose I feel the air begin to quiver A breath and then at last the fall The subtle touch and final tittle Warm exhalations caught on strings Of webs we'd weave to catch our dreams Hungry for the the thunder's voice To set loose the path of lightning's choice And see in raindrop, see in sky A mighty bow that tints the ey

Unwanted memories or mistakes we've made can often make it feel like an entire path we took or way of thinking was wrong. What if we...