"Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?"
......by Mary Oliver
These are the last few lines from one of my favorite poems, The Summer Day by Mary Oliver.
The question stirs up the burning issue in my heart: What will I do with my "one wild and precious life"? Seems I haven't figured that out because this life of mine is constructed in stages. Doors are closing, times are changing and I'm waiting for new doors to open. When? Do I need to push on them or will they just open? I sense the former but I feel locked in, paralyzed.
Time is ticking.