"All I can be-is me, whoever that is." Bob Dylan

What defines us as a person...the things we do, the things we think, what we accomplish or what our dreams are/were?

Each person we meet, even briefly, forms our character, each event adds to the making of ourselves, each thing we think, molds the person we've become.

As the fifty-sixth year of my life approaches, I wonder, who I am.  I wonder, which direction from here.

Is this the winter of discontent, of which Steinbeck and Shakespeare both wrote so eloquently?

I wonder...in the dark of the early morning.

Choices

A choice is a rock thrown into a pond,

 the ripples move outward,

with no knowledge of how far they reach.

I wonder about choices,

choosing this path or that,

 would the ripples change?

Today, I stop to throw a pebble

and view a different path,

and dream of changes.