The future speaks to me

as a brisk wind,

clashing and fleeting

with whispers and hints.

Knowing me better than I,

pushing as I remain still.

 

I remain filled with the

limitlessness of the universe.

My aspirations of an

internal power manifested.

The paths remain numerous

and bound to choice.

 

They call it a jungle;

we plant many trees.

The devastation of the

mind and decision,

force me to ensure many grow.

 

The future has not waited, and 

motion has nearly given up on me. 

Clouds clear with voices 

of certainty and resolve.

The paths may be narrow or

wide but never secular.

 

The future speaks to me

as a brisk wind,

clashing and fleeting

with whispers and hints.

Knowing me better than I,

lifting as I fly away.