Delightfully Lost

This is where you learn,

Not where you are,
Not where you are destined,
but on the road in between,
in the wrong turns and wrecks,
in the detours.

whoever told you the journey was a straight line
and predicted the hours, to the minute,
lied.

This is where you learn,
not where you are,
but where the landscapes seem strange
and you find yourself lost.
Where the weather flashes with storms
and there is no place to rest, where
you are forced to go forward,
for there is no other place to go.

This is where stories are bred.
The ones that define you.
Sagas of survival and renewal,
your own Oddessy,

and whether you are fleeing from
or careening towards,
this is the way. Never where you are.
Never where you are destined,
but in the movement.
Here, but only for the moment,
waiting with expectation
for the next wrong turn,
delightfully lost once again.

About this poem

I have found some of the best things in my life, and the most interesting things in myself, when I was lost.

Tom