The Journey

Reflecting on this prompt, I was drawn to the journey that is my life. The journey we all take, different though they may be.

Such a long way back, this road of life I’ve traveled. The distant horizon intersects the vanishing point of my past — and still, my life that was, stretches far over that horizon, into the fog of memory, past vanishing point upon vanishing point. So great is the distance I have traveled, so very far behind my point of embarkation, that recollection staggers me.

So many lifetimes I’ve consumed, so many different people I have been. Each unique, so very precious, even the most painful — for they are my collective self… they are me.

I have been the abandoned infant, the adopted son, the terrified child, the awkward adolescent, the hormoned youth, to then become the bold, but insecure young man. I have been the searcher, the scholar, the athlete, the singer, the artist, the rebel, the hippie, the poet, and the wanderer. As I grew to mature manhood, I became the husband, the father, the entrepreneur, the rich man, the poor man, the man of adequate means — and now, the man of 60 seeking enlightenment and actualization.

The miles I’ve traveled, the experiences I’ve gathered, the people I’ve known — these are a part of me. Likewise, the joy, the laughter, the pain, the tears — the fear, the courage, the battles won and lost, the scars… these are all fibers of my being. As is the love, the hate, the compassion, the exhilaration, the desperation, the wonder, the discovery — through the days, weeks, months, though the seasons, the years… all of this has knitted together, folding and building upon itself, to create this journey that is me.

I am defined by my journey — and by my journey, I am known to others.

I want to share a poem by Joni Mitchell, to which I have added three verses, and a touch of other modification. This piece was put to music by Joni. I have always been drawn to the magic of these words. I find it a brilliant reflection on the journey of life. I’ve done my best not to spoil the power of what was originally written. Here is the “Circle Game”.

Circle Game

•

yesterday a child came out to wonder
caught a dragonfly inside a jar
fearful when the sky was full of thunder
and tearful at the falling of a star

then the child moved ten times round the seasons
skated over ten clear frozen streams
words like, when you’re older, must appease him
and promises of someday make his dreams

sixteen springs and sixteen summers gone now
cartwheels turn to car wheels thru the town
they tell him, take your time, it wont be long now
till you drag your feet to slow the circles down

so the years spin by and now the boy is twenty
though his dreams have lost some grandeur coming true
there’ll be new dreams, maybe better dreams and plenty
before the last revolving year is through

and the seasons they go round and round
and the painted ponies go up and down
we’re captive on the carousel of time
we can’t return, we can only look behind
from where we came
and go round and round and round
in the circle game

the hands of time swing round now ever faster
life’s begun to carve his journey in his face
a successful man with riches, but he wonders
how long past 40 can he keep this pace

suddenly he’s looking back at 60
he’s known tragedy and triumph both the same
he’s borrowed bought and sold his way to power
he’s leveraged his soul to play the game

now an old man gazing out his window
trying to remember how long it’s rained
he sits alone here by the fire in contemplation
was all he lost worth what it was he gained

and the seasons they go round and round
and the tides of fate they go up and down
we’re captive in the ebb and flow of time
we can’t return, we can only look behind
from where we came
as we take our final turn
in the circle game

…

Copyright © Siquomb Publishing Company
Rob Kistner © 2007

~ by Image&VerseToo on October 2, 2007.