My Destiny

My Destiny


I sit,
back pressed
against the old oak.
Legs crossed in meditation.
Mind emptied of contemplation,
waiting instead
for words
sublime.

A gentle voice,
more like a whisper,
speaks directly to my soul.
An angel,
perhaps,
sings of a place
(to me,
yet unfamiliar)
in blessed words
(from somewhere else)
of dreams,
fond reunions
far from ravages of time.

A place
where
(someday)
I'm meant to be --
a place
I'll find my home,
my destiny.