Who's Plan Am I?

If we don't ask the big questions, then they will go unanswered, so my journals are a virtual excavation of personal archeology.

I was born of a wish, perhaps of a plan

of a mother and dad, Yes, they were mine

But what were they planning to do, just what

were they wanting, when they had me?

Conceived I was, of desire, of want, of love,

by my parents, ambitions they had of family

But what did they think, by having me come

what would I add to them, or to the world?

It began many years ago, and they carried me

through the plains, and through the mountains

they made us home after home, mile after mile

along the way, by effort, they caused us to be free

They are gone now, and Yes, I'm still here,

Its me and my daughters, one who survived,

One who grew ill and has slipped away to rest.

But here I am, intact, steady and none the less

The places I've been, the things I have done,

wanderings, and searchlights, across the land and sky

I have walked, I have climbed and been made to fly.

What is it I'm destined for? Is it more for me to find?

I sit here questioning, It's me taking stock of things,

What is It I was created for and meant to be?

I'm not here to needlessly cavitate, to thoughtlessly roam

I'm not a robot, I'm not a thoughtless type of drone.

So to add it all up, what am I looking for?

What am I seeking, with life, and job and craft

What more can I accomplish, with my life at last,

to make it worthwhile, being born to this world?

I'm thinking its a matter of free choice and love

How will I make a difference in these next years

to make it profitable, to make it worthwhile,

time and again, My life another minute, another mile

My destination I will know, when I lay down

the final time, the last day and the last breath,

what I was doing and seeking and looking for

Who I was, what discoveries and what earthly sense

Its part of who I am, part of what I know,

part of what I've found and tracks I've made

that others can look and then follow along

for the truth of it is, we 're going somewhere,

My part of it is living until its nearly done,

Being purposeful and filling the hungry days

with works that speak of my deep inner self,

and that makes my heart swell with pride

Mother and dad started my life, and God,

and grace of life and carefully passing those days,

Days we're allotted and adventures we're given,

To make us who we were destined to become

Finally I'm not sure if there's anymore to do,

or what to look for now? Is anything undone?

If there is, pray I will find and perform it correctly

for each one of us has our very own plan.

end

© 2019 Oscar Jones