One Can Never Be Sure Of Final Outcomes Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Rowing out to sea, wanting to be alone with the center of
the universe, searching the atmosphere above as clouds
continually float by, hiding mysteries of this world.

Never knowing where they are to be going in the distance,
solemn and sacred, being alone with a spiritual interior
life that has been holding onto this poet.

Never looking to go home again, just waiting for the best
yet to come into view, succulent and fascinating, finding
an expanded image as time flows on into another memory.

Mind seeming to be drowning, yet still floating upon the
surface of the ocean, vibrations rocking intellect, taking
promises off behind walls of a future that awaits this poet.

Wanting to take sounds of color and tasting flavors of the
many auras now surrounding this life, maybe for a final
time, but one can never be sure of final outcomes.

They just happen and we succumb to death's reasoning and
unbalanced dying, finding ourselves in the breaking of
waves as they rise and fall in the wake of a storm.

One caused by humanity, never forgiving attitudes that're
blossoming open until another day filled with moments of
tantalizing and enticing emotions.

Letting go, because there's no longer a part of what used
to be and is no longer, leaving life unfinished, but yet
going beyond the black curtains of death to a life beyond.