How many times has it happened,

Arranging and scurrying around,

Seeking the arrival

That seems more illusive than justice?

Full speed ahead,

Don’t they say fortune favors the bold?

But halting abruptly

As we must if we are to keep our sanity

Finding ourselves in another Cul-de-Sac.

The sprocket kicks off the chain

As our feet slip from the pedals

Thank God for the asphalt

Because at least we can put our foot down to restart.

I wonder about the running tally

Of turnabouts in my life

Shifting into reverse

And rolling over the refuse of costly mistakes,

Investments in nothing more than passing fancy

Now handed off at one third the price.

But they had so captured me at the time

Flashes of shine catching my eye

Deviation from the magnetic pull

Weak though it is

Toward my scripted route.

Veer here and veer over there,

Zig-zagging my way through days

Always confidently pursuing

The next memory to be found only in pictures,

Captured digitally and flickered on a screen.

There’s no program for rewind

A subroutine never compiled

So all we can capture from each Cul-de-Sac

Is the lesson expensively bought,

But soon forgotten by eyes too weak to focus

On anything but vapor.

Destiny knows better, though,

Than our vanity and flimsy whims

The ticking of the clock as we sleep

Reminding us of how much we have spent

And how little we have to show for it,

But then again, so much,

Somehow crafted from mistakes,

A life complete and filled.

We run right by what we really need,

Into the next Cul-de-Sac,

Chasing what we want,

And getting what we were supposed to

All along.

~Chris Brady