This is probably the most lighthearted sonnet of the few I have written. That's not saying much.
Consider this: that for every step
You do not take, having looked way too long
At chasms you otherwise would have leapt,
There may yet be time to undo the wrong
Of too much carefulness, too little glee -
To take the chances held out before you
And leap, shouting your fears, your joys! To be
Soaring, tumbling, flailing away as new
Landscapes hurtle past. The joy of being
Mid-air, mid-jump as it were. The old cares
Cast aside to take on this quest, freeing
Your heart from the box before it grows spare.
And when you land, breathe deep before you rise
To view strange vistas with unsullied eyes.