Wisdom has a mind of its own,
Sneaks up in time as we seek our soul.
When black paint is smeared against the wall,
We try to make sense of it all.
The gift of wisdom lies,
A world of coincidence in the sky.
There is always light in the midst of a cry,
As we make sense of the heartbreaking trial.
Constant reminders to stay in the game,
In a world of recurring thoughtful change.
No accidents only serenity,
And confirmation of the journey.
Seeking wisdom before the lies,
Is the only answer to win the trial.