I hold the orb of magic worlds
In hands that have touched the never ending sky,
Reflections like mirrors
Past and present
Perhaps the future is not within.
For all around things fall in place
Through time and space,
The words that flow come from where
I don’t quite know
And I thought of luck
But that couldn’t be it
For fate was chosen before we met.
And I lift you high
Feeling the warmth radiate
As every shred of darkness burns
Like a funeral pyre of thoughts ignited
Set free where your ashes blow on the wind
And they say it was written
Long before I became me
And before you were you
When we were just pixels jumbled in the wires
Moving through in search of luck
And landing here on earth to find
Answers like daisies growing free at our feet
Plucking petals in love you love you nots
And setting seeds into the earth
Growing trees that give life
Air to breathe and to drift and dream
And finally seen.
I chose fortune tellers instead of fortune cookies….I’m on a diet.
And now for today’s (optional) prompt! The number 13 is often considered unlucky, so today I’d like to challenge you to beat the bad luck away with a poem inspired by fortune cookies. You could write a poem made up entirely of statements that predict the future (“You will meet a handsome stranger”), aphoristic statements (“The secret to getting ahead is getting started)” or just silly questions (“How much deeper would the ocean be without sponges?”) Or you could use a phrase you’ve actually received in a real fortune cookie as a title or first line.