The path is well defined. Others have trod here
to where ever the path goes.
Somewhere worthwhile, no doubt,
or beautiful. Somewhere worth going.
Perhaps that is where you will end up
but it will likely take a while,
You have a tendency to wander,
distracted by butterflies and bright flowers,
by a tendency endowed to you by your father
to wander, a mind just a bit too active
for your own good. And so you wander,
choosing to see things others may miss,
but at the same time, arriving slowly.
Truth is, you have traveled both ways.
Direct and straight, never leaving the path,
finding the destination, and starting again,
always straight to the next. Successfully, mind you,
but not always satisfied.
Not until you accepted the trade off
(Everything is a trade off)
of your nature, a bit too curious, a bit slow,
but willing to be late
in order to satisfy your curiosity,
to let the butterfly lead,
instead of the path.
About this poem
Thinking about the new year as I sip my coffee, but I am a bit late to the “what do I want for the new year?” thinking.
I’ll get there. Just not on schedule.