Every moment of each and every day,
Fraught with the possibility of a million chances,
Unthinkingly and involuntarily we ride a single way
And implicitly hope that our future it enhances.
In the countless instants constituting our life,
With myriad options every moment of time,
Poised on the cutting edge of a knife,
Are millions of outcomes of the paradigm.
Who controls the thinking of a human being,
Are they the electric neurons of his mind,
Who fleet through the brain, wild and unseeing,
Making history in the path they leave behind.
Thus every instant in every life,
Follows the chancy outcome of a probabilistic code,
Decided only by the cosmic cast of a million dice,
Is everyone's instant of reality narrowed to a single road.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem