Life’s Dog-eared Map

Charting one’s course takes on many forms.

Season’s emotional weather,
be it warm,
hot,
cool,
or cold,
inevitably impacts one’s growing-up journey.

Natural erosion of old and tried routes,
those familiar paths,
trails,
and roads,
never seem the same
when dwelling of the past detours,
the directions of unexpected changes.

Our instincts,
unlike those of birds,
ants,
and fish,
often lead to brazen risks.

How often do we check our inner compass;
Should I turn left or right?
Carve a new route, or stay on the established?
Will bushwhacking through the untried,
lead to a dead end?

And what of the responsibility to others?
Are friends,
family
and even enemies
depending on my navigational decisions?

How senseless to think we can out-smart
the natural wear and tear of growing up
by thinking we can go around
the everchanging terrain.

Might our inner-compass be trying
to keep its needle’s instinctual true reading
balanced toward being a credit to man’s exploration,
even as it might render its map dog-eared?

How much folding and refolding
can our life-map take before the worn and weary
dog-eared edges finally cave?

A lot.