Culminations.
Many
thousands
of years
in the
making.
Decisions
being made.
One after
another.
Millennia
in
development.
One wrong
turn.
Anywhere.
Anywhere
along the
way.
One wrong
turn.
Turning left
instead of
right.
Anyone.
Different.
Things
would de
different.
Not writing
these words.
Not here
at all.
What
are the
odds.
Existence
ancestor
determinant?
Lineage
preordained?
Millions of
connections
needed.
Needed
to result
in this.
What are
odds?
Perhaps
more than
meets the
eye!
Just read your poem yesterday COLLISIONS. Congrats with the choice of Poem Hunter and Team being The Member Poet Of The Day!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
heads or tails? I'll take heads and tales. ;)