One day remaining, till I can finally get the answer.
Once the sun sets over the horizon, calling for the night.
On that day will I see the sun rise or wait with the full moon.
Even so, what if I get the wishful answer I wanted.
Ever so calming— not having to clutch tightly to the rope.
Excluding the one from the floating ones, that hopeful balloon.
Am I actually ready, to move on with this answer?
Although having never waltzed with a partner in my life.
Actually joining the composition of the lily pads.
Still can the stream let me pass the flower.
Still can the balloon slip from my hand.
Still can the moon be my only friend.
Uncertainty is what's left today.