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.