i. Fate

July 5, 2011

I know you
better than you know yourself.
I know your future
as well as I know your past.
I see how every action
has its reaction
and how every choice
has its consequence.
I read from yesterday
to write tomorrow.
I know what’s best for you
and see how bad days
lead to good days
even when you don’t.
So, I forgive you
when you curse me
for your misfortunes
as I do
when you forget to praise me
for your fortunes.
I consider every path you take
and every path you cross.
I record every opportunity you take,
every person you cross
and every good deed you perform.
Yet, true as all this is,
I don’t control you;
I don’t make decisions for you;
I don’t make you go where you don’t want
even when I know you should.
I only observe you.
I am reactionary.
You wish every day that you were in charge,
not realising that you are –
that your tomorrow
is your choice.
Not realising that
that which you can’t see
you can still touch;
that which you can’t know,
you can still change.

I know you
better than you know yourself
but you do not know me.

I am Fate.

i. Rain City

March 4, 2011

Above them glowed a golden sun,
The first they’d seen of it in years.

The people gazed up at the sky,
At something they had long forgot;

For so long, rain was all they’d known;
The rain defined their lives; The rain,
Had been the only thing they could,
Depend upon. From morning right,
Through every day, the rain came down.

There were a few among them who,
Had been around before the rain,
But none remembered how it felt,
The rain had washed those days away.

For all the rest, the sun was new,
An alien come from the grey;
That soft grey safety blanket they,
Had been wrapped up in right from birth.
And now that blanket had been snatched!

Exposed, they stared up at the sun;
It stung their eyes and burned their skin;

They soon all ran for cover from,
This stranger in the sky. And this,
This scramble for the shade was what,
Sparked memories for that small few,
The few that had survived this long.

They suddenly remembered how,
They too had run for shelter when,
The rain began to fall. There was,
A time when they had hidden from,
The rain; A time when they had missed,
The sun… And now it had returned,
To grant them warmth once more.

But how were they to tell the rest,
Who loved the rain, and loved the dark,
The clouds it cast above, the grey,
It painted in their sky, the cold,
It’s blanket wrapped them in. How could,
They ever understand that this,

This brightness, boldness, heat, was good?
A thing for them to bask in, not,
A thing to fear; A thing to set,
Them free from dreary servitude;
A thing to light their way; A source
Of vibrant joy. The light it cast,
Could rid them of the apathy,
The rain had filled them with; Could help,
Them live again, if only they,
Could see the truth. But fear of change,
Impeded them – Their fear, it made,
Them yearn for rain, for what they knew,
And when the sun persisted, they,
Rose up as one and put up walls,
To block its light; To keep its heat,
At bay, to claw their blanket back.

Eventually, the elders passed,
’til none remained from days before,
The rain. No, none were left to teach,
The rest to leave the shade and trust,
The sun. And thus, they stayed inside,
For good and raised their young the same.

The sun burned on, up in the sky,
But none who lived there let its light,
Shine on their lives; they never felt,
It’s warmth upon their skin again.

They never knew the joy the sun,
Could bring; They never felt the sense,
Of freedom that it promised them.

 

 

Inspired by the title of the song, ‘Rain City‘, by Turin Brakes.

xxv. What Was Once

February 5, 2011

What was once,
Is not now,
And ’twill not be again.

Once it’s gone –
No mind how –
’twill never be the same.

 

 

Inspired by @MyWordWizard‘s prompt: “What was once…”