The future is not unknowable darkness.
It is a question mark, curving back to now,
to us,
to me,
to prayers prayed,
decisions decided,
moves made,
on life’s inscrutable chess board.
Then the curve of the question mark
bends back into an exclamation,
pointing heavenward,(we pray),
or dirt down to hell, (we hope not),
created by what I do today,
did yesterday
and plan to do tomorrow.
Poems by Ken 