Purpose~
Meaning~
Life is like water ..
It flows to many places..
Rivers~
Canals~
Streams~
Always changing directions..
Not quite knowing..
Flowing~
Turning~
Changing~
Endlessly~
Until it ends where it is meant to be.
Preordained it seems..
Are we created with choice
in every way..
If all is preordained..?
Have my decisions..
My choices
Already been made?
If so..
Than are we all not
somehow enslaved?
Do we live in a paradox
Of invisible chains?
A puppet on strings..
Here for one reason
One thing..
HIS thing..
Love is the purpose..
God is the way..
Choice is an illusion..
When all is preordained..
Your parents were picked
before you were born..
Your life..
Your falls..
Your pain..
Your happiness..
All planned..
M e t i c u l o u s l y
by our creators hand.
Now I have to wonder..
Who is to say..
If I am here by choice..
or by what is preordained..
Am I truly free..
With invisible chains?
Am I making life happen..
Or is life happening to me?
Do I have any say ..
Is my life truly free?
Creator I ask..
For it is in your hands I long to be..
I only want to know..
If I am fighting my own destiny.
Of a preordained life
you planned
just for me.
I ask
Please!
Peter
My sincere compliments on a very well penned poem.
Best Wishes,
Chuckie