Bite Your Tongue

Crystal shards prism the future,
Suturing a mosaic of possibility,
But is the one I want the one that will be?

In through the looking glass, shrunk
Like your Alice, Mad Hatter when it’s bad –
Has possibility become probability?

Which pill will you swallow?
I already chose . . .
Must it always be so?

Do I chase the white rabbit
On the inside of serendipity?
Looking glass here, reflecting pool there,

Staring back at me: am I a fool?
Or just a dreamer, envisioning
The inconceivable?

That Cheshire smile, bite your
Tongue, how does it reflect?
Which shard of light to follow?

Real or unreal?
Illusion and dream?
Or just yet to be?