Timelines, dates.
The coming of age.
The oncoming quarter-life crisis.
The whole idea of how we want things,
By this age,
By that time.
But life takes its own navigated turn.
It’s set in the stars and galaxies,
Painted in the Milky Ways,
Written in the land of
Milk and honey.
How wonderful to know we are simply made to follow
A guiding light.
Such freedom to cut the deadlines,
Tear off the expiry dates,
Let the milestones roll into the sea –
And run wild.
Run wild in the
Meant to be,
The meant for me.
Sometimes it’s the wild geese
And not the
Ducks in a row.
Order of the day
And not the
Life in order.
Approaching each day’s sunshine end
What only matters
Is His will,
His way,
My heart.
Also read