The Poem - A Destiny We Thought We Chose

Sitting tall among the grass, and far away I see,
A mountain in the distance, a fun disturbance on the scenery.
'I'll climb that mountain,' I protest, 'It is my destiny,
when I go? I do not know, but who will come join me?'
There is no modest answer, there is no loud protest,
but a mountain peak awaits me, majestic, earthly crest!

So strapping down and kicking back along the journey's way,
I'm never steady in my pace, but progress won't delay.
There is a journey to be had, exhausted I decree,
'I am not looking back again, who will journey now with me?'
But my sight is fixed upon my boots, I know my journeys' end,
I've studied this from far abroad, each road, each fork, each bend.

It's not how I recalled it, when I saw it from afar,
This road is much more dirty, and the forks much more ajar.
But the picture of that lonely mountain, standing on its own,
Made victory and conquering it, seem quite the apropos.
And now I think, 'I could be wrong, misjudged my own direction.
But surely this is what I want, this is my hearts affection.'

Then sullenly, and losing life, I no longer carry on,
for suddenly, a stifling strife, my reasoning is gone.
I've forgotten why this journey, has been so dear to me,
why did I leave my short green grass, why ever did I flee?
There were no trials, was no strife, where grass was my only friend;
sadly I knew I lost my way, around that very first bend.

I can see the top of the challenge, I can see the peak of the hill,
Simply just a few more steps and my hearts desire I'll fulfill.

It doesn't matter, it's not important.

It's no longer worth my trip, my time, my passion, my affection,
'I'm going home,' I shout alone, and hear not a single objection,
my heart is gone, my soul is done, and crying; cease to strive.
And of my own fruition, all happiness deprive.

But here's a sight I did not see, laying on my green grass pillows,
Someone searching for my cry, beneath the weeping willows.
Somehow I had missed them, on each fork and turn and bend,
I had failed to see these stunning trees, and my beautiful best friend.
Perhaps my journey's not yet done, perhaps it's not the end.

My friend locks eyes and now has found, my sickly, pallid cry.
With welled up eyes and joy filled heart my friend shouts, 'Over there!
I've found a brand new mountain, a new adventure we can share.
Perhaps we'll meet some new best friends, to join our merry crew,
Perhaps it's now just you and me, the two of us me and you.
And maybe on this long, hard road, we'll learn a thing or two,
But I will never leave your side, even when the journey's through.'

And holding back the ugly cry, the countless tears from wonder,
I cannot help but be in awe, in words that crash like thunder.
This is not chance, this is not luck, that we have met, we two,
I say, 'My friend! You've saved me, fixed me!' They reply, 'You too!
For you are not the only one, who's been lost along your way,
we set out on different journey's so that we could meet this day.'

And now - continuing along our road, my new best friend and I,
I now am on the lookout, to keep a weathered eye,
For all those things I missed before, for beauty exemplary,
For now the sweetest journey of all, is in sharing the memory.

Sitting tall among the grass, the Lord points out to me,
'I've made that mountain, for you to climb.' I ask, 'Is that my destiny?'
He says, 'Just step and trust in me. Soon enough my child, you'll see.'