Maybe every moment's meant to be.
One chooses in the dark and takes a path
That leads one to the wonder of what is.
How might one see another's hand in this?
Each choice was a prediction in the past,
Revealing only what one wished to see.
Here and now remains a mystery.
One watches from one's rock-bound coast the vast
Ocean of experience and bliss,
Deeper than the heart, wind-sculpted, free.
Copyright by Nicholas Gordon. Free for personal or non-commercial use.