It almost feels like fate,
and yet I know it isn’t.
Just a chain of choices
long as life itself—
this I say, this not;
this I do, this not;
this I study, ponder,
believe—
until by twists and turns
I arrive here
to gaze upward at a new light
in heaven’s velvet veil,
a tear where God streams through
like lightning from a pinprick
or revelation from a whisper,
calling follow.
It’s another step
in the long progression,
one more choice:
stay a scholar only,
seeking and sorting ancient tales
in dark-paneled, perfumed rooms,
safely conjuring heaven,
ever learning but never knowing
or gather my gifts quickly,
run toward the heart-thumping
pull of prophecy,
swing from stirrup to saddle
in a smooth leap,
and leave tonight to follow
the Star.