Garden of choice

Rays of the source deal a pick

One of difficulty and joy

Be ever alive to welcome a 

new season to the fold 

A life of mixed hearts. 

Shall the time be Fall or 

may it simmer for the dry summer?

Could the angel of snow pave the 

sidewalk for the birth of spring?

Questions are born in this garden of choice

thoughts a plenty, answers impossible

When fate presents a maze, often simple to daze

Little do you know the passing of tide merely 

strengthens this bond. With every smile and glance, 

tips the beam balance. A word initiates prosaic form

abandoning simple cryptic subtitles for the complex pastures

of the mind. Shall his mind cease to dwell in such intricate thoughts?

Be it impossible to cease the natural assimilation of the common, the negation 

of the weak. With right control and foresight, may the  future be oiled akin to greased lightning. 

A pulse racing to the pace, slow careful thought may inspire solution,

Can the mind be ignored to placate the soul or reconsider?

An assortment of words, has to ceaseth some day.

For the garden of choice leaves me with one

A choice between the fine lines of life

Be it or not, strife unavoidable

here I wander alone

the only garden 

of choice.

~Nikhil~