On Destiny
An acrostic golden shovel poem
by Carole Mertz

Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own
From Hamlet, Act 3, Scene 2.

Surely we suspect our
Happiness rests in ways our thoughts
Are guided by inner direction; but are
Klandestine thoughts and actions truly ours
Even when we think we hold the reins? Their
Saving graces may be sealed to us, their ends
Pretending to be products of self-discovery. Yet none
Ever seem to evolve out of
Actual self-control–for our
Revelations and our destinies are never fully our own


 

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