Uncertainty

With uncertainty looming ahead
how could time,
as it ticks its rhythmical tempo
to the beat of my lonely soul,
unseen,
be unable to mask
its true feelings
of the day
that only get in the way
of my destiny as:
a babe never to cry,
a man not yet born,
a son never to be
and an infertile father,
while never knowing
where his first and final breath,

his previous or subsequent meal
will come from
or take him
forward or back
into the pace of life
as the irregular lines of time
emerge
into a pictured pattern
of a past spent
and a future
not yet,
clearly
invisible.

©WRM