Unknown waters lie ahead, our future is opaque, obscure, still uncharted
No more mapped out milestones, no glittering goals to accomplish
Certainty has ceased, while we clutch at withered straws
Ever searching for proper patterns to pursue, the
Return to routine, to the mindful mundane
That frees us, and comforts us
And will sustain our souls
If only in illusion.
No chance of
Written in response to Sadje’s What Do You See #54 photo prompt.
Image credit: Evan Clark, Unsplash
(The image shows a person precariously balanced, standing on a fallen tree trunk hanging over a body of water).