Puzzle Pieces

I've truly wondered, time or two

If life is all directed

By Mystic hands from Heaven's view;

Have my actions been collected?

I ponder, with acute proportion,

If a hidden compass charts my course

Without the least distortion

From a truly unknown source.

For, years ago I walked a road,

Asking between me and me,

In my own-established ode:

"Is this where I'm supposed to be?"

And when I felt all time was lost,

Divine fingers just reset the clock,

As I find a single puzzle piece

On the weary path I walk.

Curious? —Yes;

But is there further meaning?

Coincidence? —No;

A mark of God-ward leaning.

And in the thick of life's pursuit,

There seems a pattern, to be frank;

For when I take a second route,

Another piece joins the rank.

Then three, then four,

A step, and not a stifle,

Then five, then more,

Symbolic of a life-full.

Or when I travel misty thicket,

Knowing surewell not to venture,

I find no such piece, and no such ticket,

But simply just the censure.

For life's a puzzle, full of choice

And my queries never cease;

But my heart, always, will rejoice

When I find another piece.

-Cale Kenneth Montoya (06/16/23)