Turning points

Moments of motion
Changes of direction.
Some turning points are obvious,

But many go unobserved,
Disregarded minor deviations, small shifts
That accumulate and compound over the years
All tending in the same direction.

A mounting surge of myriad small things
Wavelets in the current
Eddies in the flow
A mounting pressure.

Then a dam bursts
A tidal wave of change
Sweeps you to a new destiny, a different fate.

The first drink can end
In the life of an alcoholic
Schoolboy shoplifting can lead
To a life of crime.
A passion for football can end
In rioting on the terraces

The discovery of books can lead to
Dreaming of another life, another world
And leaving home.

Turning points happen on the cusp of possibility
Many futures dimly foreshadowed
One hardens into reality
One door opens, thousands more swing shut
But that door opens onto many corridors
With many more doors.

Life is a succession of the meeting and parting of ways
Of everyday decisions and acts
Most trivial, routine, but some hostages to fortune.
Only hindsight will reveal which was which.
A series of happenstance and circumstance
Possibilities flower, a thousand blooms.
All will wither and die, but one.

That one will propagate
Become a thousand new possibilities
And so the meetings and partings
The eddies and swirls of life go on
Leading to yet another turning point
Fortunate is the person that can see them coming
And ride the wave.

Terry Wassall

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2 Responses to Turning points

  1. I think you’ve ridden the wave spectacularly with this poetically philosophical piece, Terry.
    You continue to improve as a poet with every poem you write.


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