Destiny

What is this destiny
that allows us to be free?
These decisions all our own intent,
yet to fate we are
an easy capture.

(I do not comprehend
how the tiniest of fluctuations
in the borders
of the barest occurrence
can bring the downfall
of an empire;
I cannot fathom
how these choices we make
fabricate a civilization.
It is always to me
some sort of alchemy.)

Such is transcendence:
we, without limit to our freedom
create that which was
meant to be.
The mystery is that
it is all plain,
the workings of destiny, yet
stare as we might
at all that transpires, and why,
we cannot grasp
the infinite detail
of how this moment became.

(Like it or not,
destiny depends on
what you do,
not what you understand.)