This Thing

The thing about it is that you can't ever know
Can't know anything except that it exists as told in the books.
Everything is unexpected
You may plan, dream but it is like waiting for the minute hand of the clock to change.
You may think you have seen it but you missed it.

Hope, the one thing you think you can hold onto
Is like a feather that sits on the blade of a leaf
A leaf that awaits to fall off each season
Weak enough to be crushed by the remorseless mistral

When the epiphany of it all strikes,
Your thoughts and memories are all you have
Running through your mind like the lyrics to your favorite song
Every song seems to tell your story
You imagine the ending as your own
Forgetting this thing, life, is unforeseeable