Questions litter the sandy ground like
fallen leaves curled and brown.
I walk around them, careful to not
step on unanswered questions.
For now I am the winter solstice
plunged into the dark, avoiding light
until the next transition arrives.
That path I place both feet upon
now crumbles with each step.
What do we do when the confidence we built
after years of self doubt, setbacks, pain, loss,
and anger turns out to be more false promises?
How do we believe this is our choice when we
control our fate, or are other powers at play?
