They call it the unknown,
The future lying before you.
No matter if you’re psychic,
No one knows what happens.
There are varied scenarios,
Ways it could play out,
But truly we don’t know the future.
It’s a mystery creeping forward,
And it pulls us along on our knees.
Whether we go willingly,
Or go kicking and screaming;
Time marches in to the beat,
Of father time’s own drum.
I don’t know what’s coming,
I know worrying won’t help.
I think sometimes I try to give advice,
Reassuring myself in kind.
There are bright possibilities,
Hoping people become,
More kind than they are mean to each other.
Pray people look-out for each other,
But sometimes I think society is self-centred.
I admit to such fault and others too,
But I’m still fearful;
When I think of a year or two ahead,
I’m afraid what if it’s not the right plan?
Experience deftly taught me,
Plans are dim outlines of reality.
Mostly, life goes where it goes,
And God only knows where or why.
Leading us through dark valleys,
Into trenches with piercing bullets flying.
Into classrooms with screaming kids,
A gunmen on the loose.
He leads us through to people,
Whose power makes one nervous.
How even democracy isn’t safe —
A tyrant could rule all.
Maybe the world will surprise me,
But I fear for the little person.
My own personal fears weigh heavy,
Though others bear pains greater.
Of lawyers and cases,
Of corruption and crime.
Those crimes we deem terrible;
Those crimes brushed under the rug.
Greed and all those other sins,
Abhorred but freely ignored.
Though I can never say what’s worse —
My own flaws or imperfections,
Or those I’m faced with.
Stress shows through cracks,
Egg yokes running.
No one likes raw eggs except in cookie dough.
The future is overwhelming.
But at least they’ll still be cookie dough,
And I don’t know why —
I’m particular and observant.
Why I know it’s better to be alone,
Than be truly alone with another.
Why I wait for that spark,
Why I wait for the morning dawn.
A smile in his eyes which is genuine,
Wherever he is.
But maybe happiness is a puppy,
Paws following me on the hardwood,
Barks at random sounds.
The glory of a puppy skidding down —
The off leash trail and wheeling;
Turning around to jump on me,
To pick her up when she’s tired.
My bones are stiff and ridged,
My dreams fall to despair.
So many books and writers,
And not anyone can compare.
How to rise above the masses,
Or fill your own niche contented.
But perhaps one could be something —
Success in small moments.
Afraid and weighted,
Need to cry, tears unshed,
Because disease is cruel.
Even if Heaven is the end of the tunnel,
So many words are left unsaid.
The timing of it all, does it work?
I feel alienated,
Though I try hard to keep the connection,
It’s all in your planning Lord;
So must I say, your will be done.
©Mandibelle16.(2016) All Rights Reserved.