What is not possible?

When I yearn and cannot quite reach

When I try only to come up short

My fingers stretching beyond this world

I must choose another

Learn to walk its forests, it shores

And climb its mountains

From where I can unfold, reach up

And touch the face of the moon

The inevitability astounds me

Whilst I sit here and type

At home with fears

And refusing to stay small

It is spring.