Fate’s Apostle


The climber took the spiral path
And looked to the sky
To gleefully bank
A few rays of quanta
To face-off life

The river curved
Even jumped passed
Abominable rocks
And found a little bit of space
To find her surf

And I – just like that
Found the long way home
When big dreams
– The castles of the mind
And the princesses of the heart –
Were found late – at the very edge of summer
In a small water fern
And a girl from the carpentry coast

And I was that climber and river
And open spaces stood before me
To grow and flow
After all what’s precious
Is that strange surrealism
Found in fate’s bag of tricks
When the thread of hope
Metamorphoses to a rope of fortune

Fate is no miser
Just a beautiful visionary
Who will sculpt your crossroads
And destinations, to perfect imperfection
– What might not be utopic or idyllic –
Just a beautiful edition of life
Serendipitous like a pearl
Mysterious as a fortune cookie
And as winding as a spaghetti noodle
And lets you find a little bit of yourself
In those hazy labyrinths

After all fate is beautiful
– It’s craftsmanship unparalleled –
And she will always be
A little bit smaller and lighter
Than your oversized dreams


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