Dusk speaks not
Of what dawn will unfold,
The butterfly knows not
How a caterpillar will mould..
A debutante author knows not
How many books will be sold..
A ballet dancer knows not
That the audience finds her bold..

A shelf knows not
How many books it can hold..
The winter knows not
That it is the reason your coffee's Cold..
The newbie knows not
That this adage is Old
All that glitters
Is not Gold..
There is still something
That's left to be told..
May your glories lie
In the stories untold..

For if dusk knew what dawn held,
The stars in the sky would be drowned..
For if all the stories that led to your glory be told,
The destiny in it wouldn't be found..