The Passing By
I stood upon a well-worn road.
The view behind me was hazy and imperceptible,
In front, it was open and clear, and I tried to contemplate its distance,
Perhaps the end of it was just outside of sight,
Closer than I could guess, or farther away than I could imagine.
What I did feel in that moment, deep within myself,
Was that I was on a road that was far too familiar.
How I got there, I do not know.
Why I was there, I do not remember.
As I stood there, there was a flicker beside me;
Something surged away from me,
Moving with relentless intent—
It outdistanced at speed, leaving me behind,
Questioning what it was and wondering at its destination.
The burdens that I took on, they weigh me down,
Hold me back, yet I keep moving ahead—
A slower pace than time will allow.
I could not catch up to that fleeing something.
Discerning its basic shape, color, circumference,
I suddenly realized what it was, what it meant,
And what it was to me.
I studied it in shock and bewilderment,
Holding my breath, hoping to make it pause.
It had passed me by so very quickly,
Such that I almost had not noticed it at all.
Yet, I knew what it was, finally:
It was my own life that had passed me by.
Now, yes now, I see in the distance,
That the road does indeed end,
Much sooner than I expected.
Copyright Dec 2021 - M. W. Van Dyke
All Rights Reserved
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