Must only tiptoe

The first raindrops on your head awake you
and shivering in the cold ache of another lonely daybreak
You hope to get through.
And knowing that there will be nothing special
nothing fresh and nothing new - you've seen drops of rain before -
You have to just get through.

There isn't anything to want
or even think about, not any more
There isn't any way to show or tell
the ones you wish knew, what was it
you wanted them to know about you?

If there should come a time when
you want someone to hold the umbrella
over your head, their arms folded about you
how will you know or recognise them
when all have coats of hardened rainbow - metal -
you will never see through.

Must only tiptoe when we are walking through
the times and places where we have placed our markers
but if we never let ourselves go - never run -
how will we then ever get any place
we wish to be -
how will we ever learn how to set ourselves free.

The last snows of a bitter winter ebbing away
all the ground is soft and marshy - you cannot move -
you cannot pick your feet up - can only feel
the arctic lonely wind of what you know to be true -
blows right through you.