Spectral, unknowable
by ordinary means,
the future of events,
and people, unforeseen.

Who are placed on our path
so that we can discern,
those milestones, life signs
we’d otherwise not learn.

Fragmentary remnants
stitched together like quilts.
A tapestry from scraps,
potpourri, flower wilt.

Perfumes our existence,
entices us along,
to peak around corners
at snatches of a song.

The chorus we may join,
or listen from the wings.
Heed the consequences,
and lessons choices bring.

Our shifting destiny
that we choose to embrace,
determined by actions
not wishes we may make.

M. Zane McClellan

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