Ghostwriter In the Sky

I see flowers scattered in an unkempt garden A beautiful mess, I must beg your pardon How do I identify with this, Lord and Master? This evocative catastrophe, this gorgeous disaster There is much I know I don't know Life is as such in the ebb and flow So many things I know nothing about Yet so little I disbelieve or totally doubt As I gaze into the empty abyss I see flutters of color and moments of bliss As the abyss stares back into me I wonder what it thinks it sees My crystal ball says "signs point to no" I have shaken it many times and it's always so My magnum opus will be my swan song and the onus is on me to not do it wrong My autobiography was written by a ghost writer My calligraphy written by the hand of a pale rider Not worrying, not wondering, and not losing heart Not scurrying, not blundering, and doing my part Pondering the cosmos and contemplating fate Re-working my ethos and embracing the wait