We start this journey in exactly the same way,
And the end by definition is similar for all,
Birth is for rejoicing of a life to be lived,
And death is for celebrating a life’s final curtain call.
🙏
But the in between,
The days and hours that we fill,
Those days are ours to a certain extent,
But they are for our pre-ordained will.
🙏
Some of our story is fixed to some degree,
Written on the walls of our soul,
Certain choices made out in the ether of mystery,
In an endeavour to honour our life’s main goal.
🙏
Destiny plays the game of chance to the ninth degree,
Wrapping us in surety of our destined oath,
Working towards our pre-chosen purpose,
And the best direction to ensure our stable growth.
🙏
We have our chosen lessons to learn in this lifetime,
Destiny woven through the cells of our worth,
We are the divinity of our free will,
During our time here on earth.
🙏
Destiny is designed to guide us in a certain direction,
In an endeavour to honour our chosen quest,
Lessons partaken to hasten our speed,
To live the life that we’d decided is best.
Please click the link below my name to read more of my work. I would also like to thank you for taking the time to read this today and for all your support.
If you enjoy this piece, you may enjoy this one too.
Please visit my website if you'd like more information on my newly published book, Battle Angel : The Ultimate She Warrior.
Originally published on Medium
About the Creator
Colleen Millsteed
My first love is poetry — it’s like a desperate need to write, to free up space in my mind, to escape the constant noise in my head. Most of the time the poems write themselves — I’m just the conduit holding the metaphorical pen.
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More stories from Colleen Millsteed and writers in Poets and other communities.
I First Saw Him
When I first saw him sitting on the wall, relaxed and looking out over the water, I was sure he wasn't a local. Not including children, there are only about 250 or 300 of us in this area full-time, though that number is ten-fold in the summer, and I know everyone at least by sight or by family resemblance. And yet, the way he sat looked familiar and started my mind sorting and discarding among the families I knew, not quite like this one, not quite like that one.
By Natalie Wilkinson7 days ago in Fiction
Comments (3)
Wonderful. Especially love that last line.
But sometimes, what destiny unites, life divides. It's just so sad. I wish life was as amazing as your poem. It was awesomeeee!
Okay I loved this, but also congrats on the newly published book!!!