Possible

Oh to say 
that anything is
ever really over 
is a luxury 
of one’s denial 
not of destiny 
fate takes the 
winds of misfortune 
and turns them 
into tempests of 
fury and despair 
but the calm
breeze of destiny 
does not blow 
but quietly carries 
the leaves of 
hope to the 
dark rich soils
of what’s possible