These, The Choices Poem by Night Flyer

Silver ripples swirl in motion
Like small waves upon an ocean
From this park on Summer's lake
Realities within awake
I hear distant thunder explode
On this old bench by midlife's road
Shall I reach for dreams on high
Or simply let them slip on by
These, the choices for me now
It's up to me, what's to allow
This season's moments slowly creep
And lull me to an endless sleep
Under gray strands of Spanish Moss
Warm days slip by, so quick their loss
Till some chance tumult so extreme
Shall rouse me from this lazy dream
For then I'll rise and grab the reins
To journey over future plains
And once again, to seize the day
Like sunrise over Biscayne Bay.