Certain, are we,
of the direction chosen,
authoritative in our drive…
yet, impulsivity rides along
and our assets are but plastic,
and these dreams of ours
are they even realistic?
Oh how adversity casts aspersions;
how easily plans crumble
focus deteriorates, threatens
to abandon, desire takes a back seat
to the dictates of old agendas…
we revert, wait for endings –
certain closure will refuel purpose…
and fret: is resolution even possible?
and is it necessary
or can we reload,
set course anew,
let faith keep us afloat?
(Inspired by a dream and written for Sammi Cox’s Weekend Writing prompt #63: crumble, which challenges us to write a composition in 88 words.)