Ticket to freedom
I have projected the same images day after day
Becoming a prisoner of the known.
But the known is dead and past now
And I must buy my ticket to freedom
By embracing the fresh unknown.
Chance encounters, unexpected coincidences
Premonitions, dreams and wishes
Flashes of unpredictable joy
Random events are
Weaving themselves in the web of time.
I have left the voice of reason.
I am listening to the beckoning whisper
In the recesses of my heart.
And new shapes of reality
Are coaxing me out of my prison.
Source: Raid on the Inarticulate – poems by Deepak Chopra