Agency

What are the weights of the weights? How does environment decide the fate? What is the meaning of the moment? Is it chosen? Perpetually frozen? In concepts. Potentialities. Within all the possibilities does that define our realities? Does it matter? Is that just a 'human' thing? Is it true or objective, or is that what they think? The question in itself is means for concern, us verses them is a pattern that is learned. So let's break it down, make our meaning more profound. Not dictated by the crowd, but something that we found. What's the scale of our decisions? Are we mere echoes of the past, or can we redefine? The fabric of the moment, is it woven by our hands? Or are we just the puppets, dancing to someones unseen plans? In the state of potential, where every path's untrod, Do we choose our own destiny, or leave it to the gods? Our realities are canvases, painted sway by sway, In strokes of will and happenstance, in all the shades of gray. It matters, oh it matters, more than words can tell, For in the heart of every choice, a piece of us must dwell. True or subjective, the lines blur and bend, it's our truth, that we define on which we must depend. Let's cast aside the 'us and them', let's create a new stage and start a brand new trend, Where meaning's not a battleground, but a message that we send. In the symphony of life, let's be a note that's sound, A harmony of 'we and us', in unity we're bound. So we stand at the crossroads, with the future in our sight, A junction of our making, in the endless dance of light. We hold the pen of history, the brush of now and here, To paint a world of 'all of us', where love dissolves the fear. In this symphony we're crafting, every note is ours to play, A melody of unity, to guide us on our way. For in the chorus of existence, it's not the 'them' or 'me', It's 'us' together, writing our collective agency. In this symphony we're crafting, every note is ours to hear.