What moves me?

The force from above, a simple pulse which entices my existence to strive on, Or can it be another entity which I am yet to feel? They question my distracted expression as it looks so mysterious and vague, While I cannot help but wonder what these dreams will cast and create a small and lonely seed A seed that will prosper though my passionate ambition, My ambition, a sympathetic individual, all to ready to take the lead.

The leaves whisper my name, They tell me that I am capable of prospering a small seed dropped by the wind, Oh so gentle, the wind, as it gave me a chance to prosper all the same I trusted the wind and allowed it to be my loyal guide, As it gave me a chance while other hovered over me their voices full of blame My mind refused to submit and followed the first path given to me, I did not recall that in order for my dreams to bloom my life needed tranquility, chaos, and rain.

Rain, the ultimate prosperity created by God, called to me and grieved my loss Its roughened calls actually urged me to move towards its darkness, For in the raindrops are an abundance of opportunities and chances which are carelessly tossed While the wind, with its comforting and assuring breeze, gave me banal expectations It promised that my seed would bloom, but did not mention that it would be placed in the same soil of the dead moss.

There are certain motives in our lives that are essential They can be presented as a small seed or as a large tree, But they all must be fed by a supporting utensil An individual can help you along the way, You should be reminded that your dreams are of your own and that theyre what make you special Submit to the factors which will support you and thank them each day, Even if they were as small and replaceable as a pencil.