Day 123: Just Fate

We were locked in a bar tonight as one of the worst thunderstorms just washed by the roads in Bloomington and we made the decision to move inside into smaller groups. Though we did not find a table large enough to fit us all we all had moments on each of our tables, as I moved around sharing the warmth of those who surrounded it. In between all of this chaos I started reading palms just for the fun of it and as it spread from one table to the other I had read everyone's hand , 11 people in total. Though I refuse to believe too that the idea of fate is written somewhere for those moments it was fun learning from people. I was also taught how to twirl today by a friend and a dance with an old friend. I am neither parts of the story, neither a fortune teller and neither a dancer, but then some nights are all about being captured by what it brings. And then some warm bodies and hugs are left behind on a slow ride home, no matter where you live

Just Fate
You are not destined to be anything different tonight,
You are not meant to be read, just in some faded lines
You are more than just someone who gets to write fate,
You are like remnants of the night that are left behind instead

Some nights are about no endings and retreats,
About finding a tune that plays on endless repeat.
And then when we are all captured by the night
We are far too awake to say goodbyes.

Let me tell you of the storm that grazes past my windows sill,
That sounds like the rustling of tress and the painting this night fills
It gets louder every time the night wishes to draw to an end
It thunders in pain, when it can no longer pretend

Mellow endings to some new found things tonight,
We get to keep the best of us, our nostalgia for this night
We are perfect cups of tea or wine or whatever may be,
We raise a toast, that for now; in sleepy eyes we keep.