بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

there's no trade there for me to make, for everything that's in place, He already owns, from the surface of the skin, down to the marrow of my bones. no offers I could pose, no ransom there with which to plead, His already is everything that's shown, along with all what's hidden out of sight and underneath. I'm learning that acceptance of His decree, is so much more than what I thought before, for it's the sum of all possibilities, and making one's self be alright with all of them in store. there's no conditions I can extract, no leverage of making mine, that I might bargain towards the future, for it's all of His design. these eyes, these fickle, feeble eyes, this mind, this silly, shallow mind, can scarce tell what's left from right, much less what's behind any of my affairs, while I think I've understood them just fine. the lessons always learned, reminders always present, to pull back from what is not mine to know, and to do with just what I'm given. some might buck at this notion, and care to challenge fate, to forge their "own decrees", with what limited resources they thought they've made. but I am not they, it isn't anywhere here that I seek, no vessel here to hold my kind, what they want is just temporal and fades to dust, while for me there's just Eternity I'm trying to find. and for me that end to reap, for me that end to be gifted, I must give all this world away, and find myself with Him contented.