An ode to choices

If I had six more lives…
I’d have been a singer in one, a nurturer in another.
Perhaps a solo traveller in one, a villager in the countryside in some other.
A rockstar in one, a storyteller in another.

I see myself riding by the Rhine in a quaint little German town,
a soft, chill breeze brushing through my hair.
But there I am, too, curled up with a book in a Scottish hamlet,
with the soft pitter-patter of the raindrops against the window.

Wait, am I doing yoga in the Himalayas?
or spinning into a pirouette in a ballet on Broadway?
Oh, look - there I am, hustling through the streets of Manhattan.
and then me lost in the aroma of coffee by the Louvre in Paris.

Perhaps I’d climb a corporate ladder in one,
crunch numbers in an investment bank.
In another, I’d stitch wounds as a surgeon.
or maybe one for chopping onions in a bustling hotel kitchen.

I am also pouring an espresso martini in a London bar.
Mixing an Aperol Spritz in Venice.
Maybe canvassing coffee by the Surfers Paradise on the Gold Coast.
or serving fine dining by the Seine.
One also for mixing matcha in a chashitsu in Kyoto.

My soul whispers,
“If only I had six more lives.”

And one….
One I’d choose to simply laze around.
For slow mornings and a warm coffee in a sleepy town.
Perhaps I’d live in a cosy cabin, hidden in the woods,
sipping hot chocolate in the glow of Christmas snow,
and an evening of pasta and wine.

Six more lives, perhaps.
But for now, this one will do just fine.