POETRY
Terminal
I don’t know exactly where I’m going or what I’ll find when I get there
I sit at the terminal waiting for
a flight that will carry me onward to
pastures unknown and an uncertain future,
with strange new adventures, unfamiliar views.
The knot in the pit of my belly is tight,
my fear of the journey ahead is intense,
for change can be fright’ning, as everyone knows,
the challenge to face it head-on is immense.
I sit by myself with no luggage beside me,
a ticket I hold in my cold, shaking hand.
I don’t know exactly what’s my destination,
don’t know what awaits me in unchartered lands.
But staying here, static, is never an option,
We all must move forward whatever the cost,
for life’s like a winding road, leading us onward,
Sometimes we know our way, sometimes we feel lost.
But in the end, no matter what mode of travel,
whether foot, flight or vehicle, car, bus, or train,
Eventually, we find ourselves at the terminus
preparing to make that long…
