The Choice

I’m sitting on the front porch
Of my life and all of time
Is stretching out before me
While the sun pretends to climb

And all the power in the world
Rests in my own weary voice
For I can change the journey
Of my life with but a choice

To leave it all for all untold
Or stay behind and make believe
That every dream I ever dreamt
Was never meant to be achieved

And so the choice becomes a quandary
With the power to direct
The very pathway of my life
And every point that I connect

So I am asking for a sign
From any willing to bestow
Or maybe I’ll just let the breeze
Guide me silent, soft, and slow