by Nick Quaglietta, 2018

The future rolls out there before us,
As far as our eyes can see.
Sometimes winding, and at others, narrow,
Leading onward to where we will be.

Our journey, with peril, may be fraught;
A fate the next turn might unravel.
Our destiny, thus, do we entrust
To the faith that we keep as we travel.

“When will we arrive?” she will ask.
To which I’ll reply “When we’re able.
For the answer to this, in truth,
Is known only by your guardian, Angel.”