The Nature of Choice

3-23-17

The nature of choice

Brings up questions of free will, destiny

How it is one comes to a point of

Making a choice

Some falter at crossroads

Others relish the unknown paths ahead

Always momentum takes hold

And shifts in motion, direction occur

Seeming to be

The crux of the nature of life

These infinitesimal specks

Multitude of moments

Of time turned to choices

Into puddles of reality

That evaporate in time

For the next sequence

Stretches of plotted time

On a spectrum marked

By events and dates

Flowing from choices and the hands of God

After a particularly unconscious choice

The bitter aftertaste lingers

Accumulation eventually recedes unconsciousness

Sometimes too late though

For all intents and purposes

An effective quality of life

Some we meet offer no choice

But connection

Truly beyond our own doing

Acting on our own behalf

To be left in the wake of the cosmic sea

Sinking, swimming, diving, flowing,

Directionless for a while

Until veils lift

Revealing horizons of choices

Along the way

A search to separate them from the strain of a life

Worth leading

Great effort to soften the blow of their hovering needs

Their hint of impact

It has begun and as yet

With only a conceivable end in sight

The heart, in all its nobility,

Brings forth messages

Often draped in confusion, fear, pain

Leaving one choiceless

In a state of knowing

Once the tangled webs are removed

Sticky with the sweat of dread

The agony of heartlessness

Impeding spirit flights of fancy

Too often roadblocked by doubt, hesitation

When two choose to

Or are chosen to be in love

After some time together

One finds need of a map

Where to go at the turn

When the dust comes off the older values

Things previously embraced, firmly implanted

Following a familiar sound

Calling, reaching for a new turn in the road

When one’s own choices

Or lack thereof

Are reflected in the eyes of a beloved

Unable or

Unwilling to unconditionally love

The very choices that once endeared them

The process of subtle judgment

Harmless, yet biting

In the realm of choice in freedom

Leaves one feeling either more or less free

New choices wash over the rough edges

Sandpaper on a wooden block of time

The foundation of a life in progress

Reaching for the texture of a substance of smoothness

Grabbing what lies ahead

In full view

Dare I speak of victimization

Question its reality

Blasphemous, I ponder

The fate of the poor souls

Learning horrific lessons beyond reach of reason

The edge of the human condition

Infliction, horror

One hardly chooses to bear

Terrible enough to bear in thought alone

Once it was spoken to me

That on a level beyond vision

Victims choose their fate

I say

A question best saved for some future sage

Whom I suspect will settle

The fact of our conception and our death

Explain our coping diseases

Understand our forays into madness

I engage with the wonder

Of creation by choice

Manifesting joy, treasures

Testing limits of palettes of thought

Mixing colors of desire with shades of need

Painting pictures of being

Of hope

Of choices to live

In ways of dreams

Stories embellished by magic

Imagination

Exclusively

For the highest good

Of those who choose to listen

By Debra L. Alt © August 2001

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