Hindsight made its perfect sense.
Some good plans were formed, but thence.
The part we weren’t seeing,
As small perspective beings,
Was the piece that made it crumble.
And the seers rendered humble.
With some rendering abilities,
They’re drawing mere possibilities,
Which never came to fruition.
Some misguided intuition?
Or hearts molded from the past?
With certain ways holding fast?
Instead of being open,
It was clouded by hoping.
Serving fortunes on a dish.
Predictions skewed by a wish.
Was a wish about a “should.”
The “should” was misunderstood.
The dynamics of the wild,
Cannot be reconciled,
From the sway of human heart,
As a fancy plays a part.
How a forecast can be wrong.
It’s in wonder that we’re long.
Long on questions, long in awe,
Long on taking what we saw,
With a grain, but not a sign,
With humility in kind.
Since there’s always so much more,
To the future that’s in store,
The manner of what’s next,
Is in motion and complex.
Always reaping what we sow,
But how and when we don’t know.
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