The Road That Was Not Mine
The road that was not mine
I've often wondered about?
If I had followed that road somewhere
would I have felt left out?
There must have been something calling to me,
something too obscure
to understand at the onset
that the road I took was my lure.
I do not miss what wasn't mine
for in its absence I learned
how the road I'm on was exactly
the road for which I yearned.
There must be a defining purpose
that propels us to where we go.
At the end of our travels on this earth
we will look back and we'll know.
We will recognize all the holes
and sympathize with unfinished goals
and regrets will fall away.
For the adventures that come to you
will always have you say.
This was my life. I did my thing
and the road that was not mine
was for someone else to travel on.
But I wonder about it sometimes?
Edwina Reizer's Other Poems
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(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
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(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
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