Mystics say no choice, you cannot do—
Life just rolls forth, and it carries you.
But Werner said, “Choose what you’ve got,”
And somehow, both strike the same sweet spot.

 

One says you stand and declare, “I choose!”
The other says, “There’s nothing you can do.”
A hand on the wheel or no one in control—
Yet peace arrives when you take either role.

 

Choose what is, or see there's no choice—
Either way, it's the end of that voice
That argues with life, resisting what is—
Surrender or choosing—both bring the bliss.

 

There’s no more fight with what’s now and here,
No push or pull, no need to steer.
You are what happens, no gap remains—
No separate self to shoulder the reins.

 

One frame says “authorship,” full and bold,
The other says “fate,” as if it’s foretold.
But both dissolve that relentless try,
“Something else should be,” such a lie!

 

Choose what is, or see there's no choice—
Either way, it's the end of that voice
That argues with life, resisting what is—
Surrender or choosing—both bring the bliss.

 

So call it choice, or call it flow—
The fight is gone in the letting go.
Responsibility, or release of will—
The room is the same, and your mind is still.