Poem: Control

Do we ever have control,
Over the wind, or the path we stroll?
Can we steer the course of fate,
Or does it glide, unpredictable, late?

We grasp at moments, firm and tight,
Chasing shadows in the fading light.
But time slips through our open hands,
Like grains of sand across distant lands.

We try to shape the roads we take,
But rivers carve their own awake.
Mountains rise where we have planned,
While we’re left to follow, uncommand.

We fight for answers, seek to know,
If we can plant or make things grow.
Yet life, it blooms and withers free,
Beyond our will, beyond what we see.

Perhaps control is but a dream,
A fleeting whisper, a silent scream.
For in surrender, we may find—
The truth that life is intertwined.

So, do we have control, or not?
Maybe it’s less than we’ve been taught.
But in the letting go, we see,
Control is partly ours to be.

Thank-you reading.

Much Love and light.

Brenda Marie Fluharty