When resolve is shattered
they become doubts.
Fragmented
pieces of a reality that's
jumbled,
like
a picture
taken of a vast mountain
from the reflection
of a small puddle.
I find it sad
but beautiful, still.
How frames of reference
transmute
to doubts,
which become
seeds that grow.
-
In one breath
or a lifetime.
-
Do we overcome
or simply change
what is there?
Does our resolve shatter
or does it branch into something new?
Do my questions stem from doubts
or growth?
Do I have a frame of reference
or do I transmute what is new
to old?