Divergent threads make a loose and unforeseen tapestry. The ancient heart of a future cloaked in wisdom inlaid with traumas deep and painful.
We may see what happens next, but we may not know the outcomes . . .
It’s the problem with the future. There are no guarantees. No confidence that what we do will bring us joy or just further lessons learned to continue walking uncertain paths.
And what of Joy? Is it warm and tender love? Or just friends sitting over breakfast laughing, talking, over things familiar. Or over things uncomfortable yet held in common?
There seems so much history unknown in an amiable conversation. Or in the heated storm of a night with hungry passion. . .
The future is not the only undiscovered country. We Each cannot always know ourselves completely. Nor our nearest hearts adjoining. Not with the minds we meet.
Nor with the breasts we kiss.
All we can but do is walk the ground before us, meet the souls who wish us, touch the hearts who’ll let us.