Trapt inside our battles of doubt and possibilities,

Where 'ifs' and 'mays' like leaves shy away from trees,

I stand among the silent tranquility,

Questioning if I can do anything at all.

What extent, what reach, what power lies,

Within the grasp of my own hands?

Is there a limit to where my spirit flies,

Or is it bound by unseen bands?

Can I shape the world, can I bend the arc,

Of this vast universe to my will?

Or am I a voyager in the dark,

Moving, yet paradoxically still?

And you, my unknown guide in this,

What aid can you lend to my quest?

Is there wisdom in your silent bliss,

A key to unlock my chest?

Yet here we are, in this time lines lapse,

A poet and a muse, an eccentric sage.

You give me wings, like the birds,

And I, in turn, pen down the page.