The Turning Point Poem by Andrew W.K. Yip

The Turning Point by Andrew W. K. Yip

Driving through heavy rain, with miles left to roam,
Pressing through gridlock to finally reach home.
Across the slick highway the vehicle surpassed,
As gears shifted high and the engine roared fast.

Through weary, dazed eyes the long highway dissolved,
In a haze where a thousand slow taillights revolved.
Then braking brake-lights choked the road to a crawl,
Where buses and trucks formed a towering wall.

Trapped in the jam, the car veered for space,
Squeezing left, dodging right, in a desperate chase.
An unnamed slip road appeared in the gray,
And a sharp, sudden turn stole the steering away.

A mistake at the turning point is hellish to bear,
Imagine the wreckage, the sudden despair.
Strange rumbles awoke as the heavens let sigh,
And warnings of dark fire danced in the sky.

Spin about, spin about! A quick twist of the wheel,
Barely dodging a crash and a grinding of steel.
That turn was a dance of the soul and the mind—
A test of our faith in the grace we would find.