Panes of Glass

Panes of glass in my soul divide me from my past Portals that serve as the windows into my future Yet clearly distort the visions of my present tense Frosty panes on the periphery of my vision ahead Wavy, hazy rain streaked dusty and cracked obscure Coats the window with grime from the road’s voyage Mirror to the rear shows the receding ways taken Those paths not chosen, not explored, detoured away May suggest that the views now studied would differ Is that better or worse or simply not the same as today? But if we took another voyage down alternative highways Would the panes show us the same in the mirror behind? As water drops seek the same path from here to there Newton’s laws joining the same river from diverse streams Would I still see a similar vista as our paths converge? Or is this expedition uniquely dependent upon our fate Decorated with the dusty mud and stones of the road taken Always different but the same as forever in its timely physics Like a door passed through, does light pass in transiting a pane Glass clear or hazy, bending the beams into prisms of color Yesterday impacting on how I steer my life into tomorrow Come along for the ride, sit next to me and call out the road signs Enjoy your view and wipe away the frosted breath so I can see Our vistas may not be the same, but I can still turn and see you