|Freedom is the power to will one's fate.
One chooses like a leaf blown by the wind,
Reversing, flailing, billowing, settling down
There, precisely where one chose to be.
Yet choice is just the ripple of one's turning.
Embrace with joy that choice made long ago,
In love still, though so differently than then,
Gift of who you were to who you are,
Having willed the grace that now surrounds you,
The world you can't imagine now not being.
You choose again, again, what you have chosen,
Each year, each day, again the choice to love,
A choice that wills the wonder of what is,
Resonant with happy tears, with laughter,
So beautiful you cannot look for long.
Copyright by Nicholas Gordon