Not knowing . . .
. . . where to go, what or how to do or even whether,
what must needs be, one or another way.
I flicker at the edge of the path,
and sit down to consider, still at a loss,
. . . not knowing.
I can't walk away or do nothing,
looking into sweetest eyes and sweeter lips
of one so loved, it hurts to see such
anguished need hanging on thread of longing . . .
. . . while dilemma only deepened and understanding waited.