My fingers played over the keys of yesterday

trying to recall what made me most happy

but somehow they couldn't conjure up any

of what I thought they would, only a penny

for my thoughts of what the future held

and I hadn't a clue of how a day would meld

into another let alone what a new year may

bring to pass, so how can I venture to say

even one word about my hopes and dreams

as they could be construe d as mere schemes

instead of the goals to which my heart aspires

or any of the mystic moments that set me afire

lo and behold I'm in a set mold I can't get out

I write one poem after another, what about

only the reader knows, since I just write them

and sometimes wonder if I truly comprehend

that in order to hold on to a semblance of sanity

I must understand reality without any vanity

But reality is such an elusive state

And I lack the skills to navigate

The many currents, its ebb and flow

The winds of change they always blow

Against my life, beyond my kin

So many charts to comprehend

My only tool a string of letters

Forming words when tied together

A tangled knot of comprehension

To plot my coarse through this dimension

Of what we see or hear or feel

Just searching for an even keel

Between what has gone and what’s to be

Or how it may apply to me.