We know not what each new day brings
So, we must bear life’s curves and swings.
Not knowing when the tide would turn
Is what creates uncertainty.
If only we could ever know
the way that everything would go,
Then we can know what to plan for
and live our lives with certainty.
Since we could never ever know,
the way that everything would go,
We plan our lives as best we could,
and trust things turn out for the good.
God, your maker, knows the future
And he desires what’s best for you
If you yield your whole soul to him
He’ll not leave you to fate’s whims.
In the future God is planning,
there will be no end to our lifespan.
Earthly troubles will then be ended,
and the living will be splendid.
Those whose trust in Christ is thorough
Do not mind the unknown morrow.
For the God who knows the future
Is the one who'll see them through.
Do you know what it’s like to trust someone
and feel as if it’s jumping into a lake with weights tied to your leg? Watching everyone you love slowly drift away till gone. Like taking that step not knowing if it will turn out the same.
Do you know what it’s like to finally trust that person and put your all into making it work out? As they slowly distance themselves from you, but was it ever bound to work out?
Was I actually loved, or was I in love with the possibility of being loved by you? Did you ever feel the same about me or was it all just limerence?
Hordes of tiny fish
Nibble at the strands
Dark marmalade feathers
Undulating seductively
Calling all fish
To belong, be part of
A hidden totality
Under the glazed sunlight
Hazarding the shadow
Squeezing through the murk
Feeding our way in
Imagining light
Believing in everything
Eating the darkness
Mouthing the mass
Chemical collages draping the shape
Of a rusting onion
With nothing to say, but
Enjoy your meal.
There's stillness in the air.
A silence hovers heavy in the distance.
Reigns an uncertainty of what's to come.
AP: Honorable Mention 2026
He is a formula I cannot trace,
a textbook logic that is full of flaws.
I see the reason written on his face
but cannot calculate his shifting flaws.
He'll solve a problem with a cool, calm mind
then shut me out to think things through alone.
I find it stings to get the cold shoulder,
faced with a wall where nothing more is shown.
I don't get him, yet somehow I do.
I feel his moods before he says a word.
And every clever theory I thought true,
Turns upside down and becomes absurd.
He makes total sense until he starts to move;
a grand conundrum that I wish to prove.
Beneath a sky of uncommitted rain,
I walk through streets where windows hold no names;
the city flickers like a dying vein
inside the wrist of midnight’s restless frame.
The moon hangs loose, a lantern without shore,
adrift upon the blackened tide of doubt;
each star appears a nail in Heaven’s door,
yet none can tell what waits beyond or out.
I am a suitcase left on some old train,
tagged by forgotten hands and foreign dust;
the years pass through me softly like cold rain
through roofs abandoned long ago to rust.
Sometimes existence feels a borrowed coat
stitched from the shadows of uncertain seams;
we button up our fragile human throat
and speak in currencies of borrowed dreams.
The mind becomes a forest after fire,
charcoal branches sketching broken prayer;
while somewhere underneath the buried mire,
small roots of meaning twist through ruined air.
And still we rise.
Like ships with cracked compasses glowing,
we cross the fog because the heart keeps rowing.
Across life’s ambiguous dynamic landscape,
the misty highway in the unclear topography
winded with the weary wheel of time.
I traced the faint footprints of blurred destiny
to the hazy future taking shape in abstraction
In the quicksand of expectation hollow inside,
the shapeless shadows of dismal danger
of devouring desolation lurked.
As the debris of desires subtly subsided,
morose miasma permeated life’s vague void.
Following dormant diktat of destined providence,
listless life lumbered in the indistinct path.
Released from the karmic essence of being
I freed my mortal epitome from equivocal existence;
the patina of pristine peace I then embraced.
Searching within I discerned the divine galaxy,
illumining life’s tangible intent in the haze,
defining the pathway of the journey of faith
through the intricate maze of mundane muddle,
away from the labyrinth of existential uncertainty.
This urge to exhale without restraint
into the hardness of days heightens;
my own center accepting those lapses
when my frail body readily perishes
amidst dreary seasons :
yes, I am weary;
How mournful the thieving of dear life rips,
as I blame the ticks which pluck hours
from rails of courage, from immense grit...
am I simply existing or prevailing?
Yet, precious moments past relieve time's woe,
that a fullness of seasons once held
me beyond earthly limitations...
now, the purpose of existence
eludes my soul ...where uncertainty
becomes part of tested faith.
A drop in the universe
In eternal time
Existence is ephemeral
Being everything and nothing
Existential uncertainty
arrives like a question older
than the body carrying it~
a quiet inquiry rising
from the marrow’s dim archive,
asking “what does it mean
to move through a world
that never stops shifting?”
Light tries to reason with shadow,
but shadow answers
with yet another riddle,
reminding me that clarity
is just a temporary visitor
and doubt is the more
faithful companion.
Some days the self feels fixed,
a point on a map
I can almost name;
other days it dissolves
into a constellation of maybes,
each star a possibility
I cannot fully claim.
And still~
something in me listens
for the logic beneath the chaos,
the tenuous geometry of purpose
obscured in the noise.
I step anyway,
realizing the path is shaped
as much by my questions
as by my steps,
understanding the unknown
is not my enemy
but a horizon.
Uncertainty remains,
it becomes my teacher~
one that asks me
to live without definitive answers,
to let meaning be something
I participate in
rather than discover.
The sky keeps its oldest secrets
as strange signals cut the quiet.
Cold dust holds a foreign blueprint.
We are not the lonely center.
Breathe in the vast, unmapped dark
as an unaligned pulse beats out there.
Mathematical static shifts into voice.
Shadows fall on distant ice.
No human lens defined this geometry.
A mirror quakes across the vacuum.
We watch the deep space ripples.
The quiet universe finally speaks.
Are aliens here to stay – or,
have they ever been here at all.
Now, I think I plainly see
Heisenberg's uncertainty.
When there's no reason,
then, there's rhyme,
When there's no money,
then, there's time.
As the dark earth swallowed her,
hope seemed lost,
and silence wrapped her soul in shadow.
Yet she did not know
a new chapter was already dawning.
The heavens wept.
In the darkness, she drank deeply,
swelling until she burst—
not in ruin,
but into life.
She rose victorious.
The sun rested gently upon her tender leaves,
the wind hummed a familiar song,
and her stem stood firm and unafraid
as she reached toward the high heavens.
“Uncertainty”
Life is uncertain, really uncertain
Who witnesses tomorrow got luck
Who does not, got unstuck
Divine, fortune almighty
-the reason behind uncertainty
You lost, you left dignity
You stopped, you held it for other day
Spent years making life,
Spent years taking risks
Got into a pseudo belief
There are only natives, and no terrorists
Fiction proves it wrong
But that feels unstrong
Making mild impact,
Scenes are lost, intact
No one can predict
Do not get demoralised
You need to keep going
Whether years or hours
You have the moment,
Live it to fullest !!
“Uncertain is life, but certain is present”
— Diva
grass slick slippery
garlanded with dew's glint beads
taunts weary sleepers
to reach out without thinking
beyond sinking stepping stones
dawn light ogles through
a grey, hopscotch-scattered sky
crunching clouds aside
to find a way through chaos
beyond sinking stepping stones
treetops break the skin
of bedraggled drowned-out mists
frogs croak waterlogged—
no shores for sleepwalking gulls
beyond sinking stepping stones
horizon dissolves
unhitched from any compass
worn edges are blurred—
direction is strewn with ash
beyond sinking stepping stones
echoes lose their source,
I am confused, miasmal
moored meanings unspooled—
I grab for something solid,
beyond sinking stepping stones
in off-ramp byways
of shiftless realities
I crawl through muddles
clambering to find a way
beyond sinking stepping stones
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