Thrown by storm
stepping now
in little more than habit
Then a memory

It pulls
I surrender to it
and go there
but know not why

I am there
in memory
and wonder
what can be drawn back

Time returns
memory remains

I recognize then
but feel now
I am here
in between

Running in fog
through all blocking
the way
I want

Blind to protect
the needs
I must

I strike
and flail
I would
do anything

I look down
and see
who does these things

and long for mind
that would control this body

Its own plan has time
I have mine
To it I never bow
and it never loses this fight

But for a hint to help me through
would my time be better
veered this way or instead another

Others I would help through
but must only stand by while in their time
Time has its plan

The agony of the wait
while I cannot but watch another suffer
while I cannot but suffer through myself

Time Knows but does not tell

I have spent a lifetime like this
in battle with it
While it just waits
and sneers sometimes laughs
for me perhaps maybe sometimes
sheds a tear

Time knows
it can wait

Sometimes my enemy
sometimes my friend

In the beginning I saw the end
and the path to take me there
I saw my mountain ahead
and the me that would make the climb

Now I’m here on this mountain
and I’m climbing
and slipping
and climbing again

It’s a different one
a different climb
not the one expected
not the one I thought I’d chosen

I accept it
plant my feet in this the only now that is
yet the further in I settle
the further slips away the one I chose

Moving on I remember the beginning
and the path that was to be
I see choices made
and the life that in fact has been

What of my life is even my own
what of the choosing
has been mine to make
Is it I that set where I set out to be

Is it I that chooses my mountain
or is it my mountain
that chooses me