Last Chance


Ice sparkles on your face—
the hand follows the last drop,
lost in the humidity of the rain.

Life is enclosed in that box,
accompanied by a long line of pain.

Two leaves, before falling from a tree,
together floated in the wind.
But it was yesterday—a long time ago.

I felt your eyes closed
by fear and in the difference
of who stops and who goes forward.

Your pain was like an arrow—
I looked at you, and it pierced me.

Spring changes into fall—
every time opportunities are missed,
every time the eyes don’t open.

But autumn changes into spring—
the leaves come back on the trees
in the last chance.

Our weakness makes us fall; it makes us feel like the last person in the world—abandoned and marginalized. But let us not lose heart. After every storm, the sun always returns, as the moment to rise again. When we do, it is another step toward our destination. The strength of accepting the humiliation, tears, and neglect will take us home.