Burst, Bud, Bloom

Nearly time to make
a serious mistake. It’s
the only way to move
forward, my teacher 
used to say. See what
happens, then choose
a way to go to recover
or move on. It’s never
about success upon
success: it’s more like
how flowers burst up,
bud, bloom, and seem
to die only to come back,
and like them I could
likely come back from
the wreckage I plan 
to be buried in soon; 
death is after all
uncomfortable,
and as fruitful
as it might prove, the risk
of not coming back 
is large enough that 
every time a mistake
presents as an opportunity, 
I hesitate before
preparing to burst, bud,
and bloom.