on faith in what could be

i woke up this morning feeling
down about the rain, how it
threatened the events of the day
i’d poured much of myself into
dreaming into being—an idea of
gathering literary lovers at a
neighborhood space. and the park
had seemed like such a favorable place.
so what happens now? do i cling to
the vision, though we may get
washed away, or let the current carry
us somewhere else entirely? what if it’s