The Beaten Road

I see the world

as I drive along,

the sure straight road

in front of me.

I look to the left

and I look to the right,

seeing multiple distractions

in either direction.

These distractions are framed

in bright and white

blinking fluorescent lights.

They tempt me from

the road I travel.

To get to my destination,

I know I should not stop.

If I did, my mentality

would reason,

“Only a few moments.”

 

I know myself.

I rationalize that

I would stay forever

even if I meant to be

only a few moments.

So, I avert my eyes

to the front and

pretend as if those distractions

do not exist.

I am better than that.

I know that I have

a sure road in life.

 

This road is bumpy

in many different places.

Sometimes going uphill

the terrain gets a little rough.

Even the straightest of roads

gets somewhat rough.

I can feel it shake me

to the core as my tires

pass over the paved way.

It gets difficult to handle,

but I keep my hands firmly

gripped on the wheel.

As I traverse the road,

I can feel myself

shake less.

 

As sure as

the road appears,

there is no guarantee that

its entire course

will be smooth.

Even if it is the best shortcut,

I can never know

what lay ahead.

 

Along this road,

I enjoy the sights.

I am still fixed

on my destination.
I stop a few times

here and there

for food and for comfort.

I go on that on road.

Driving, driving, driving!

Always driving

and never stopping.

If I get lost a few times,

I merely whip out

my trusty map,

find my location,

and backtrack onto

the beaten road.

I know that

I will eventually reach

my destination.

Author's Note

Based on the phrase "the beaten path." This was one of many poems that I spoke into a recorder before later jotting down onto paper. Most of them were spoken while driving. I happened to be driving while speaking this one. It's interesting because the poem itself is both literal and metaphorical.