Who knew how much the clouds would drift?
Who knew how much the sun would glow?
Who knew how many forceful echoes
Would becoming the whispers of souls?
Who knew the memories
That would embed themselves
Upon open hearts
And the most curious selves?
Who knew a bloodstream could run so deep
From whaling laughter or a fragile weep?
Who knew the songs we'd sing one day
From the melodies hymned of time gone by?
Who knew that intimate passions shared
Would enliven something much bigger than I?
All we can know is each decision at a time.
We need not a how, but simply a why.
Each time you peak further inside the door,
You invite the gentle awakening of something more.
Nobody knows how our lives will ufold/
All we truly know are the longings of our soul.