Is there right thought and wrong thought? It seems to be so.
But who makes that decision? And what is it worth?
My thoughts are not predestined. I choose them at will.
If they just happened to me, then what of my skill
To discern which ones feel good and offer me mirth
And which ones leave me hapless with nowhere to go?
I can choose this or that thing. Am I ‘made’ this way?
And if so, in that making, do I play a role?
If I make a wrong choice, I call that a mistake
Thinking predestination plays out for my sake.
But I make the choice consciously and from my soul.
My mistakes are my doing. I direct my play.
Some confusion exists about what is belief
As compared to what is known to be absolute.
I believe I have two hands? No! I know it’s true.
Even if I can’t see them. I know there are two.
I believe God exists, but to know that is moot.
Knowing this much about things should mitigate grief.
Now, to speak of deception gets closer to home.
We begin life with simple minds, then they evolve
To the point where some part of us questions most things.
Sorting out facts from what we believe, wellness brings.
Running with my assumptions my life won’t resolve.
With this firm understanding, I am safe to roam.