The fog, the dense, dense fog

Change is inevitable.

It rolls in like the waves along the shore.

What road should I travel?

Where shall I turn?

What direction should I head?

 

Change is inevitable.

A glimmer of hope ahead.

Light a lighthouse sitting on a bluff.

I see it through the fog, the dense, dense fog.

 

Change is inevitable.

And, yet, while I move in that direction

I remain unsure if it is where I should be headed.

But yet I hold fast to the unknowing.

 

Change is inevitable.

Like the promising beacon that warns me of dangerous shoals

Faith, doubt, hope,

all are inextricably linked.

They forge the path of my destiny.

 

Change is inevitable.

I move towards the light

towards the ever changing shoreline

in the fog, the dense, dense fog,

I see the waves constantly

rolling in.

 

Change is inevitable.

What road should I travel?

Where shall I turn?

What direction should I head?

Faith, doubt, hope.

 

Through the fog, the dense, dense fog,

I reach the bluff.

I jump into the depths,

swirling in a vast unknown ocean

and I am taken to a new shoreline

riding on the waves into the path of my destiny.

 

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