The Roads of Yesterday

The roads before us, from beginning to end.

Time is much like an infant:
It begins at a crawl
Starts to walk
Becomes firm upon its feet
Discovers the thrill of running
Never slowing down
Until eventually
Decades have passed
And yet it was only yesterday.

Trails divide
The great open road ahead
Some well worn
Others filled with overgrowth
Some take the familiar
Others chance the unknown.
Though our lives differ
We march upon the very same paths.

Within the darkness
A beam echoes
Signaling the birth
Of a new star.
A seed splits open
Giving way
To a newborn sprout.
Under a bright light
Sons and daughters
Open their eyes
For the first time.
All things begin
Metaphorically the same.

The story’s
First chapter is written.
Every step
Turns another page
And every year
Another chapter.

The early portions of the book
Tell of discovery
And the mystery
Of this world around us.
It is here where
Friendships are made
And connections
With family are founded.
Bliss temporarily relieves us
Of the eventual decisions
And coming roads ahead.

The depth of the story
Increases along side our own growth
As we become young men and women.
The road is now before us
And paths must be chosen
All the while
We long to know what our place is
Upon this Earth.

New friends gained
And others lost.
Love blossomed
And hearts shattered.
Deeper family bonds
And hard farewells.
Realities once unseen
Reveal themselves
From behind the curtain
As the road diverges into a series
Of snaking forks.

Decisions lay before us
As the school years become
Etched in the stone
Of the paths now far behind.
“What will I do?”
“Seek a promising career?”
“Or pursue my dreams?”
The pages flap open
Ever faster now as the prelude
To the middle of the book
Is now penned.

It is at this section that the stories
Can drastically differ.
Hundreds of trails lead away from the main
One must have courage to continue on
As all the roads lead to uncertainty.

Happiness and Anger.
Affection and Tears.
Regrets and Triumphs.
Harsh Truths and Life Lessons.
Compassion and Fears.
Dreams and Nightmares.
The story grows into a novel
Without a specific genre
As the paths are decided
And the wanderer reaches middle age.

Your children are just beginning
To become acquainted
With the world around them,
As your own time begins to slip
Through your fingertips
And the once numerous paths
Diverge back into a single straight road.
This book is heading toward
It’s final chronicles
As their story is just beginning.

A life of hard work
Challenges and successes
Becomes one of leisure and retirement
As things seem to slow and calm.
Yet, the pen remains steady
And the path ahead comes ever faster.

This road has reached a peak,
Now we cascade down the other side
On this mountain of sorts.
One day you step back
In wonder and shock
“Where has the time gone?”
“It doesn’t seem like so long ago”
“It all seemed like only yesterday.”
A childhood now a distant shoreline
A future now an ever draining hourglass.

The enigmas of life
And unanswered questions come
“How different would things be
“Had I done this or that?”
“Did I make the right choices?”
“Was I meant for this life I lead?”
“What if?”
Would you be pleased
With how your life has been?
Or would you regret
Wishing you could go back
And start it all over again?

In the twilight of our lives
We reflect the many trials
Of the heart and mind.
We endure so many hardships
That shape our lives
By making friends
Spending time with family
Seeing the world
And making an impact
We leave a resounding impression
No matter how trivial it may seem.

Within these pages
We leave behind
The wisdom we gained.
All these things we achieve
Will one day vanish
Until they diminish
Into a weave
Of echoing memories
Within pictures and the minds
Of those who loved us.
All things will pass
Much like the very grains
In Time’s hourglass.

As all good tales
They must come to a close.
Though the book must end
Along with the others like it
The spirit lives on
Within the new books
Now started.

As one person
Reaches the end of the long road
Another begins the journey
Following the footprints
And echoing the memories
Of those who walked before them.

Reviews

[Eleanor]

Beautifully written, filled with passion. The metaphor of life as a novel in progress of being written was very effective, for those who pass really are an example to those that remain alive to carry on their legacy. I thought it was a amazing. Awesome reminder that it is our choice as to whether our story is worth the read or not.

[Jack Necron (Aubrey Jack Peaslee)]

Thank you for the kind words and for reading, I'm glad you like it.