Monday, November 28, 2011

The Chute

The walls look weathered, and worn with time,
But still sturdy enough to do their job.
The force of life surges through,
Always in motion,
Though the pace and the goals are set
With different outcomes in mind.
Some deliberate, hesitating slightly
Before moving forward,
Trusting that they have a choice.
Others plunge ahead, reckless,
No thought, go with the flow.
The course is longer than expected
And with some alterations, and
Narrow channels branching off.
But the walls are always there,
Fading paint and unyielding structure.
The passers-through make their selection,
Each opting for their own direction.
Pulsing forward, seeking what comes next.
But all will find at the end of the run
That common truths prevail:
There is no stepping backward,
And, as diverse as the forward path is,
The exit is the same.

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