Sunday, October 6, 2024

What Of Tomorrow?

 
Little boy looking at night sky with telescope.

"Night Sky Wonder" - Bahamas AI art
©A. Derek Catalano
 
 
What Of Tomorrow?

What of tomorrow, the dawn not yet seen,
Where dreams take their flight in a world so serene?
Does it rise like the sun with a promise to keep,
Or fade in the shadows where the hopeful ones weep?

The winds of today carry whispers unclear,
Of futures untold, of joy, and of fear.
In the cradle of night, as the stars softly glow,
We ponder the seeds that we’ve chosen to sow.

What of the heartaches left buried and deep?
Do they follow us forward, awake from their sleep?
Or does the horizon, in its golden embrace,
Leave them scattered behind with no trace, no place?

The roads stretch ahead, but which one shall we choose?
Each footstep we take, something gained, something lose.
For the price of tomorrow is paid with today,
In the choices we make, in the words that we say.

Shall tomorrow be kind with a soft gentle hand,
Or cruel as the tide that reshapes the sand?
Will the bridges we build hold strong through the night,
Or crumble to dust by morning's first light?

What of the moments we fear and we dread?
The worries, the whispers, the voices in our head.
Do they fade with the moon as it melts into dawn,
Or linger like shadows when the light has withdrawn?

If tomorrow is painted by hands yet unseen,
By hopes we hold tightly, by fears yet to glean,
What of our yesterdays, the roads left behind,
Do they tether us still, or release us in kind?

Will the dreams that we chased find wings of their own,
Or fall to the earth, too heavy, too grown?
And what of the love that we promised to give—
Will it blossom tomorrow, or fail to outlive?

Tomorrow’s a canvas with colors unknown,
A space to be filled by the seeds we have sown.
Its beauty uncertain, its shape still unclear,
But still, we must walk it, despite every fear.

For tomorrow is hope in its truest disguise,
A light in the distance that flickers and flies.
And though we may stumble, and though we may fall,
Tomorrow still beckons, it calls to us all.

So what of tomorrow? It waits, just ahead,
A path unpredicted, by the living and dead.
We march toward its silence, with hearts full of flame,
For tomorrow, dear soul, is never the same.
 
 
©A. Derek Catalano/ChatGPT