Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Two slender ribbons wend and wind their ties
from hill and day to day and dale. They twine
a twisted path to tumbling skies;
they bind me like a parasitic vine.
These steely bands that bound my path, these rails,
this coiled pair of bonds constrains my course.
Clockwork predictability prevails:
no change, no varied sequence, can I force.
The mythos and the wisdom that endures
insists this wintry fate is my resolve.
The certainty that prophecy obscures:
no matter how a fortune will evolve,
in helical predestination lives
all of the possibilities life gives.