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Bees
One day, I will hold destiny in my hands.
I will hold fate like a little songbird in steady hands,
And I will say:
"Yes, I see you.
I accept you as you are,
I can love you are you are."
It will be no different from speaking in the mirror.
But that day, it isn't today.
Today I will only rest,
And perhaps tomorrow will not be that day either,
Or perhaps it will be.
But I stand ready for that one day.
Searching in all the wrong places,
Never getting it right,
Told to stop looking,
Fate will decide,
I sit at a bar,
A woman catches my eye,
Do I walk over and say hello?
Fate will decide,
It’ll happen when I least expect it,
Love will find me,
She’ll fall into my arms,
My soul mate, our destiny,
I look all around me,
Overwhelmed by the choices,
Wanting to stand idly by,
To let fate decide,
He could not tell the way he came,
Because his chart was lost:
Yet all his way was paved with flame
From the bourne he crossed.
He did not know the way to go,
Because he had no map:
He followed where the winds blow,--
And the April sap.
He never knew upon his brow
The secret that he bore,--
And laughs away the mystery now
The dark's at his door.
Pale green-white, in a gallop across the sky,
The clouds retreating from a perilous affray
Carry the moon with them, a heavy sack of gold;
Sharp arrows, stars between them shoot and play.
The wind, as it strikes the sand,
Clutches with rigid hands
And tears from them
Thin ribbons of pallid sleet,
Long stinging hissing drift,
Which it trails up inland.
I lean against the bitter wind:
My body plunges like a ship.
Out there I see grey breakers rise,
Their ravelled beards are white,
And foam is in their eyes.
My heart is blown from me to-night