Treasure Island

David Harris

(18 June 1945 / Bradfield, England)

Harbinger Of Fate


In the roads we travel,
our destination is always
a tiny speck on the horizon
where it meets the greeting dawn.
Many of the roads we travel down
a harbinger of fate waits for us there
to change our destiny
from the one we have chosen.
They stand a hitchhiker
along the lonely miles
waiting for us to stop
to give them a lift.
Stopping will be our fate decided
before our destination met.

Submitted: Sunday, November 29, 2009
Edited: Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Harbinger Of Fate by David Harris )

Enter the verification code :

  • Stephen Stirk (12/4/2009 10:08:00 AM)

    Life can pivot on a sixpence. You never know what's around the next corner. If we did, would we really want the knowledge. Splendid poem
    Best
    Steve
    10 (Report) Reply

Read all 4 comments »

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  9. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  10. A Dream Within A Dream
    Edgar Allan Poe

New Poems

  1. I'll pray you never run away, Mark Heathcote
  2. See and please come, gajanan mishra
  3. The Wind, Sara Militello
  4. Death.. My Ultimate Inspiration, Ruma Chaudhuri
  5. Further Trivializing Their Quick To Get .., Lawrence S. Pertillar
  6. let's get whimsical..., Mandolyn ...
  7. Mute, I Am Krakatoa
  8. Nuptial Vow, Tony Adah
  9. PIGHEADEDNESS 10 WORD, Beryl Dov
  10. mystic myth, subash parajuli

Poem of the Day

poet Robert Burns

When biting Boreas, fell and doure,
Sharp shivers thro' the leafless bow'r;
When Phoebus gies a short-liv'd glow'r,
Far south the lift,
...... Read complete »

 

Modern Poem

poet Jessie Pope

 
[Hata Bildir]