April is National Poetry Month so I’m tackling the Writer’s Digest 2019 April PAD Challenge hosted by Robert Lee Brewer.
Today’s prompt: Write a prediction poem. Make a prediction. Write about another person’s correct or incorrect prediction. Or, you know, be unpredictable.
THE CERTAINTY OF MAYBE
When I was young, nothing beat the thrill of the Magic 8 Ball.
Such hope was born in those seconds between the shaking and the waiting,
the rosy future hinging on whatever answer floated up from the bluish murk.
Reply hazy try again
We asked and shook, asked and shook,
choosing its vague ambiguity and lure of second chances
over the daisy’s stark and final dichotomy
he loves me
he loves me not
Maybe he would
but also maybe he wouldn’t—
we preferred the potential of just maybe.
But now I’ve grown up and maybe isn’t the lure it once was.
I want to know what is and what isn’t,
who’s in and who’s out,
what’s possible and what’s not.
I can deal with the reality as long I’ve got some certainty.
Yet I’m coming to realize that certainty
is the one thing I can be certain I won’t get.
It seems that maybe is as close to certain
as things will ever be.
And I’m pretty certain I’m right about that.
All signs point to yes.