Truth Can’t Lie
by Odin Roark

How unpredictable
this twisting journey
that maneuvers the terrain
of mountainous challenges
in order to arrive at the valley
of straight roads.

He navigated life’s voyage,
crossing bridges,
passing through dark tunnels,
and dealt with its inevitable uphill slowness,
often addressing the living-map given him as a child,
wondering what might have been different,
had he taken some unpaved roads.

He was told…

Success dictates no venturing off the proven path,
the finely engineered road for the hoi polloi,
the mass connection of dots
guaranteed to fulfill the quest
to get where he was going.

But the “where”…

Even with the “You’ve arrived” shout-out,
something wasn’t right.
He couldn’t stay,
retire,
join a country club,
play golf, and then…

His attention U-turned back to all it took
getting to this level ground of supposed contentment,
where having “arrived” was made so important,
where the present-day map for the masses was judged indispensable,
the assurance of having left the mountainous odyssey behind,
there was nothing but reward ahead.

For him,
the fit was too tight.
And so…

The return trip seemed longer,
teaching unvarnished truths were a rare commodity,
falsehoods the accepted speculation of trust.

His rearview mirror proved unrelenting,
bouncing reflections of
benchmarks made in the past,
all the maneuvering,
doing the right thing,
“their” right thing,
playing the game,
“their” game,
pursuing resplendence,
“their” resplendence.
Life’s rewards all planned out.

Ironically…

He’s back now,
back where much of it started,
only this time getting in touch
with dots needing different connections,
rebuilding childhood memories almost forgotten,
accepting teenage doubts as normal,
embracing adult mistakes as cherished lessons,
learning inner-investments
come with endless dividends.

Truth can’t lie.

Priceless.