After Jane Hirshfield’s “I am asked a question.”  

What have I done with my life, my one wild and precious life?  

There is no better question.
I love the sound of this one,
the way wild balances precious.   

My life has an answer.
But my life speaks a strange tongue.  

There is much I don’t know.  

I do know how to hang on, and how to think.
Perhaps I can learn to hear what my life says.  

Perhaps I won’t need to choose  

or to understand.
I go out into the misty rain.  

Fine droplets on my face don’t slow me down.  

I can dry off back home.      

(italicized phrase is from Mary Oliver’s “The Summer Day”)