What will your freedom be?

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and if today were the last,
or the last before that?
what would your freedom be?
its textures, scents, taste?
how would it envelop you,
and would you leap into it?
what would the expression
of your love be, how wide?
of all the remaining steps,
the in and out of breath,
how many are dedicated
to all the small devotions
that, like a trail in the woods,
will always be our guide
to places of greatest purity?
How many sacred moments
do we feel the pulse of life
dancing like magic in us,
so we know, really know,
how gloriously we are here?

– tammy takahashi

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