Pardon me, have you seen my sense of destiny?
I seemed to have lost it along the way somewhere
Yet, I’ve looked up and down and it isn’t here anywhere
I can’t even remember when or where I had it last
Or any other clue that links the future to my past
I must have lived so long without it that, I’m ashamed to say,
I hardly even noticed it was gone today
Until I read that book.
The book that meddled, unauthorized, with my head
Forcing me, irreverently, to unearth the sacred dead
And bow humbly to destiny’s gravitational force
At the unyielding wall of its Holy Source
I wrote this after being struck dumb with Neil Gaiman’s The Ocean at the End of the Lane; a delightful read that surprised me with the holiness of everyday life and everyday people.