Patient Whispers
by Odin Roark

Unlike the cyclic waves of fate’s ocean roar,
destiny patiently laps the shore,
beckoning we perceive the endless choices,
of ebb and tide forbearance.

How unfortunate…

So many walk life’s shorelines unmoved,
remaining cynical like the gulls lining water’s edge,
allowing the bombastic curling-wave sameness
to insure more habitual indifference.

For those venturing beyond the shore…

Destiny’s patience reminds often
of fate’s ever-threatening slavery,
where inland’s tumble weeds of impotence
roll with listless abandon,
bouncing aimlessly through
denial’s ghost towns,
breath once of vibrant potential.

At journey’s end…

To walk such streets is to wade through
swirling torn photographs never taken,
the ones remaining but dreams
now littering the dusty streets of inaction.

Possibly history’s echo will keep alive
reasoning’s patient whispering,
hopefully moving fate’s gray clouds aside,
allowing destiny’s light to break through,
be absorbed,
embraced,
and lived.

Perhaps.