A thought-provoking free-verse poem about being in contol of our lives. |
Young men, foolish and filled with bravado, actually believe that they can be in control, that their life will follow their carefully made plans. This belief provides comfort, fills them with hope to achieve their life’s work, to persevere. Yet, this sense of control is but a sham. For Man controls only a small portion of his fate. Blind luck and circumstance are empowered to override our ability to control our own destiny at their capricious whim. No seat belt, no child restraint chair, no amount of careful driving may be able to save your child if Fate has placed you in the path of a drunken driver. No amount of career planning and maneuvering will protect you from company takeover and your being downsized at age fifty. Nothing can save you from an attack by Nature in the form of a direct hit by a tornado or a category five hurricane ... all your life’s accumulation of possessions lost in minutes. Exposure to a microscopic germ can sicken you, even kill you, in a matter of days. Every day circumstances unseen and unknown may miss by mere seconds derailing your plans. Where is your control? So, why does Man persist in his belief that he exercises control over his life? To acknowledge that he is buffeted about by the whim and whimsy of sheer dumb luck leaves him feeling powerless and disheartened. Besides, he must strive to live life as best he can. He has to attempt control out of necessity. A wise man makes his plans, then hopes and prays that greater events do not intervene and squash his efforts. A wise man lives in recognition of his true vulnerability and lack of control … yet lives in perpetual hope that Fate will treat him kindly. Please check out my ten books: http://www.amazon.com/Jr.-Harry-E.-Gilleland/e/B004SVLY02/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0 |