I opened a fortune cookie today and it said: you ask where our troubles are born,
look not to chance, nor to distant stars
they rise from the footsteps we have already taken,
the echoes of yesterday living inside today.
And if you wish to glimpse your future,
do not summon prophets or open old palms
watch your hands now,
see what they choose to build or break.
Conscience is a quiet witness.
It speaks when we are willing to hear,
measuring good and harm
with an unblinking eye.
Luck is not a mystery,
nor fortune a stranger passing by.
Each arrives on a road we ourselves have paved.
There is no door out of consequence,
no place the law of cause and effect forgets to follow.
Only that space where time stands between the seed and the harvest,
patient, inevitable, true.
Jan 12
Jan 12, 2026 at 4:09 AM UTC
I opened a fortune cookie today and it said: you ask where our troubles are born,
look not to chance, nor to distant stars
they rise from the footsteps we have already taken,
the echoes of yesterday living inside today.
And if you wish to glimpse your future,
do not summon prophets or open old palms
watch your hands now,
see what they choose to build or break.
Conscience is a quiet witness.
It speaks when we are willing to hear,
measuring good and harm
with an unblinking eye.
Luck is not a mystery,
nor fortune a stranger passing by.
Each arrives on a road we ourselves have paved.
There is no door out of consequence,
no place the law of cause and effect forgets to follow.
Only that space where time stands between the seed and the harvest,
patient, inevitable, true.
