How do you capture destiny with words? How would you rewrite it if you could, if it were even possible? Would it be a sonnet, a single sentence, a short story or a sacred scroll? When we see destiny unfolding before our eyes, we are powerless to change it because that’s just the way things are meant to be.

Or is it?

Are men born with a predetermined path they must walk, a song they must sing, a life they must lead, a death they must embrace? Is there an immutable rhythm of the heart that leads a person to his destiny, some incurable madness in the soul that chisels away at reason until there is nothing left but a blind following, an unquestioning obedience?

If I could rewrite my destiny, I am not quite sure how the story would end, but if I could rewrite yours, you would live a long, prosperous life, filled with love, happiness and many grandchildren.

I always could see better for you than for myself.

I suppose that is my destiny.