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Cheryl C. Helunck
Not knowing why I am on this journey
I move continually forward,
never able to return
from whence I have come.
One moment spent is never
to be recaptured.
Drifting always forward being carried
out by the tide of life.
No way to return
to the safety of the shore.
Slowly heading into the unknown
with no thought of what lies ahead.
There are moments
that have been so rewarding
I have committed them to memory,
so I may look back on them.
Others, glad that they have passed
and even though they brought pain
and misery they all
cut and shaped who I am.
Like an iceberg,
so little of the person is revealed.
Most lies hidden deep within the
depths of their ocean soul.
Moving alone and letting the waters
slowly melt away
the time I have to spend here
while searching always.
Relentlessly looking and
trying to understand the journey.
Sometimes caught in the task
of just existing.
Looking at the lives around me,
I wonder if their voyage
has the same purpose,
or if our trip is for different reasons.
If we are making this journey
to accomplish a goal or task
then are some lives here
just to make heroes of others.
The child that dies of hunger,
a short trip on the sea of life.
What was his purpose for being?
The soldier who dies in battle
is both honored and hated depending
on who is remembering him.
A few lives are capable
of altering the future for many.
Why do some lives make this impact
and others do not.
Similarities in our courses
but none exactly the same.
Are some lives portraits
of man's worst examples?
Others the illustration of the goals
we strive to achieve.
What of those whose greatest
task is just surviving?
Is being a survivor
the key to this journey?
If it is, why then does each life
in the loss of the final battle.
Death hardly seeming like a reward
for existing and enduring
the many hardships of life.
If death is a reward,
then is life a punishment?
As there is equality in the fact
that death comes to each of us.
How is it that some embrace life,
struggle through the cruelties of disease
to remain just days, hours longer?
All these things
I ponder on my lonely journey,
wanting to make the most of it,
yet questioning the reason for it.
Can one really do a good job
of living if they do not know
the purpose of their existence?
It is normal to question the lives
and actions of others but
since we have no map to follow
is it fair to judge them?
No matter how many lives I interact
with on this voyage the trip is still mine
and mine alone.
Since I drift through time
by myself then the choices and decisions
I make must be acceptable to me.
Moving ever forward
towards the unknown, I pass this
moment never to return,
adding it to others long forgotten.
by©Cheryl C. Helynck
The above poem, "Lonely Journey"
is written by
©Cheryl C. Helynck
and used with permission.
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September 5, 2004
Updated September 9, 2018