destiny only has eyes looking forward,
as if one believes in the lip service of time,
as if either running the mind-movie of their existence
or inwardly noting,
depicting each page-fixture as the future of their life.
in either case,
destiny better be outside the color palate already known
or the crayons selections readied in hand,
because destiny that matches expectations,
is grounds for depression,
as face in one's hands.
destiny's eyes have got to bring to recognition
a wider scope and a deeper lesson,
a living ness that out tells the story already known.
destiny is best,
when there is no look-back
as a background needed,
when flourish has a buoyancy beyond the dream,
when the fabric of being is realized beyond the future intent,
when the gusto of the moment
lives beyond the intent of the storied account.
destiny is a bother
if one is listening to one's own account.
either pre or post,
destiny is best
in the eyes of another's referential
as another person's observational review.
as for destiny itself,
it wears best when time, as a riddle,
holds no questions to answer
and no answers that ever complete . . .
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