"The future is there... looking back at us." - attributed to William Gibson in his novel 'Pattern Recognition'
A quiet tug there shapes footsteps yet to be made— threads drawn from ahead what has not happened still bends the strings of what's to become. My old self watches from the far end of my path— watching who I am my future self stands aglow hoping I'll walk towards it. Fate leans into me a shadow that knows my path before I take it— fate shapes how I lift my hands before I reach out to act. Tomorrow sniffs now, folding in some yesterdays— a loop of echoes defying the line of time wanting to take the off-ramp. My hoped-for vision stands on the ridge calling for what I could become guiding with a lantern's flame— inviting braver steps forth. All that lies ahead all that was lain behind you shapes the here and now watching, waiting for chances— to make your future real.
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