What Will Be
Waking up in the morning
To the chill and frost
The debris of yesterday.
Birds chirp naively and squirrels awaken.
The sun shines from afar half-heartedly,
Through the rays you see promise.
Suddenly bad memories are evicted.
Change is rest, it goes.
This to yourself you do say.
Toil across the day, dig the garden.
Run your socks off, think your brains sore.
Bear your fantasies and dreams in mind.
Pay that price as the day rots away.
When the sun goes to bed,
Dry bead of sweat is to be washed away
By the honesty of your toil’s promises.
Don’t chase the promise.
Que Sera Sera -
What will be, will be.
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