Where It All Began

Every moment in this life has led me to this night, as I’ve cycled endlessly through revolutions of the mind. Was this the marrow in a cosmic breath of life, or just a passing ghost of hope that I cannot let die? Hope is only dangerous if you won’t believe, improbabilities, only anomalies, if you cannot see.  The only question left to ponder is the probability of wonder and the complex rationality of the chance of serendipity. Is there a chance that we were where we were meant to be?