Momentary

Each morning is a promise of something

An evening  a wishful thinking

I look out with an anticipation

Of what is about to come my way

I walk in crowd but my thoughts are alone

Propelling persuading yearning to grow

I seek and ask and enquire around

Or perhaps I have it already and am second to none

The moments of past outweigh the future

Yet my step is sure and ensconced

I tread, no dread  comes to me

For I am the shaper of my destiny

The words are profound yet they humble

For each step must not flounder

So fly I must just to try

Another morning with a promise of something

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