From birth the coiled yarn of life unfurls
In twisted knots and wide, far sweeping turns.
Untying, winding – randomly it curls
As much as Fate allows for Life’s concerns.
Slipped through a predetermined needle’s eye
Is Time, which must fulfill the prophecy?
Mere beings of potential, you and I.
All roads that point and yield destiny.
And from creation’s epicenter grow
The spokes of Truth now tangled ‘bout our head.
But trudge unmired in the search to know
The secrets that the oracle once said.
And find your heart inspired by the word
That now the one has found his Broken Bird