This life is a tale
Of loss and gain
And joy and pain
All in season
And some we imprison

Tales are about perspectives
And obviously are subjective
Awash with chapters
Definitely remiss without characters

Many pages forgotten
A few ripped out (wishful thinking)
Some still to be written
The final page figured out (faith talking)

It is a tale with many authors
All authors are also characters
But one author is also the editor
Another Author is also the Publisher
The Publisher writes the first and last pages
And will contribute as much as you let Him
But the Publisher is also the Audience
He decides whether to throw this tale out the window
Or add it to His prized collection
This Publisher has a reputation
For making masterpieces of all tales surrendered to Him
All masterpieces make it to His prized collection

This life is yours
And this life is like a tale
A tale that is written only once
And is edited as it is written
And the Audience is Judge

I am the author of my tale
And I am the editor of this tale
But the characters write their own lines
All I can do is decide how their lines are reflected in mine
The Publisher though, is a different matter
I have decided to surrender this tale to Him
His style doesn’t really show the beauty I seek
I know He has a lot of experience, but these rhymes look very far apart…
I have no idea what happened in that paragraph…
And that chapter…that chapter looks quite unnecessary
That other chapter though, whoo, made me cringe at the beginning
But I couldn’t stop smiling at the turn-around, oh, what an ending
His pacing and spacing look a bit questionable from where I stand
It is quite a funny feeling, y’know, feeling intellectually ‘left out’ in your own tale
But it is a blast seeing this exquisite tale unfold
And knowing unquestionably…
“Though I am holding the pen, this beautiful masterpiece is not my doing.”