Crossing Fate

There’s a beautiful garden behind a church by my home.

There’s a few small gravestones marking the lives of souls long past.

There’s a sculpture of a man spinning with the stars.

There’s a woman confronting her fate.

She’s carving her name into a tree that passed away, crashed down, and died.

Now the tree is a bridge covered in soft moss.

It crosses a river with everchanging waters.

The waters might drown the woman.

The fallen tree might save her.

Crossing the river will undoubtedly change her.

She can use the fallen tree to cross the waters or she can try to cross without a bridge.

There’s only one thing the woman can’t do.

She can’t avoid crossing the river.

She can’t stand in one place forever.

She must keep spinning with the stars.

She must confront her fate.

She can watch the moon wax and wane for months or years,

But eventually she must cross.

She must let the everchanging waters change her,

She can let the bridge save her.

Her purpose lies on the other side of a fallen tree.

She’s carving her name here to mark the soul of a woman passing by.