Ghostwriter in the Sky

I see flowers scattered in an unkempt garden

A beautiful mess, I must beg your pardon

How do I identify with this, Lord and Master?

This evocative catastrophe, this gorgeous disaster

There is much I know I don't know

Life is as such in the ebb and flow

So many things I know nothing about

Yet so little I disbelieve or totally doubt

As I gaze into the empty abyss

I see flutters of color and moments of bliss

As the abyss stares back into me

I wonder what it thinks it sees

My crystal ball says "signs point to no"

I have shaken it many times and it's always so

My magnum opus will be my swan song

and the onus is on me to not do it wrong

My autobiography was written by a ghost writer

My calligraphy written by the hand of a pale rider

Not worrying, not wondering, and not losing heart

Not scurrying, not blundering, and doing my part

Pondering the cosmos and contemplating fate

Re-working my ethos and embracing the wait