Not Mine To Make

I have in my mind two different plays;
the one that ends in fortune and the one that ends in plight.

I feel I must consider the road where each one lays
where will they lead me and how long until there's light?

As circumstances have it, currently to ponder
the obvious is not so, the ending not so clear.

So often I sit, allowing my mind to wander,
the meanings I transpose; but the author is not here.

What if the outcome is one of naught?
Into tiny little pieces my heart will surely break.

To be still as I have been taught;
Demeanor, grace and poise is the coat that I must take.

My mind I am preparing, my heart the worst I fear
for that one ending moment of crushing, utter despair

And yet the other path, the one that's no so clear:
A small, yet hopeful glimpse; do I even dare?

For that is the song that makes my heart sing,
that gives breath to life, and purpose for being.

That is the song I so want to hear ring
but afraid to reveal the path I'm foreseeing.

For me, I know it's right; for me there is no choice.
And yet I cannot share my words, lest fear and doubt creep in

The answer must come from another voice,
from another path I have not since been.

From that author; he gets to write
He gets to create this ending; what's in store.

Only this I know with all my might,
I could never love an author more.

COPYRIGHT 2009. Emma C Miller. Any reproduction of this story may not be made without express written consent of the author.