The Race

They never saw it coming, the finish line.
They called it a Race but never realised it was one
Until the apparition of that final marker pole

But then it was just too late
To turn back or even hesitate,
Their essence in that condensate
But the final moment of their state.

All life competes for survival, an immediate goal.
A game played out every second, a constant turning
Of the wheel we tread until our final breath.

Gone forever, a forgotten mote
Unmarked even on nature’s tote
Because they staked it all, underwrote
And lost the bet. No footnote.

The road had forked millennia past, two journeys lead.
A choice made with every waking breath, to give or take
And hope this changed the dealer’s final hand.

But the cards always fell the same,
Somebody else had rigged the game.
No, just us. Let’s give ‘them’ a name
Since we’re always trying to shift the blame.

Most took that low road we hear of, thinking it quicker.
Got sidetracked along the way and forgot the journey
We once began together many millennia ago.

That choice then made hung as a weight
Around our own evolutionary state,
Tied us into that predetermined date
So we had no choice but to pass its gate.

So, that’s it then? The sum of all human endeavour
Was simply to vanish, not to colonise or conquer, to boldly go
And discover worlds only dreamed by an enlightened few?

It’s not how we do, but how we see
That changes how that life had to be.
A simple change is what we need,
To think more of we instead of greed.

© July 2015. All Rights Reserved.

Originally published at https://www.edwardterry.co.uk on July 11, 2015.