Is it ever too late?
To see what matters most,
for light to lift my mood,
to wish for joy
in spring’s caress,
sing without restraint,
twirl beneath white petals
drinking in their smell,
see a brilliant feathered pink
across the morning sky
to feel a lover’s glance
and see our spirits touch,
to know the pure love
of a child and smile,
to feel a dog’s smooth head
beneath my hand and sigh,
not while I breathe
and can remember
to give thanks

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for day 1 of NaPoWriMo 2015, National Poetry Month.