Revisiting: 'Friends along Our Path'

Since June of 2013, this is the post which has garnered the most readership, and the reasons seem obvious - it resonates.  The poetry resonates with those of us who search for meaning, want companionship and, yet, want to travel our own path.  The poem has had accolades from those suffering from PTSD at the medical center at which I am the lead Chaplain.  Who we allow into our life has some bearing on the direction of lives take.  Do they steer us, do they follow us, or are they content to keep us company and be our friends?  And, for those who have allowed us to be close, what do offer in return?

These companions are the friends we meet along our path.  Whether they are an ex-spouse, estranged parent, people who agree with us, or those who don't, they are to be cherished and remembered, loved while here and remembered when gone.  Good people or bad, they donate an impetus of change to mold who we were, are now, and who will become.

I can only hope this post has been a positive "impetus of change" for the hundreds of people who stopped by to read it.  I find myself humbled when I think so many have found my writing worthy of attention.  As always, I welcome any constructive comments my readers wish to leave either by email, or publically by using the comment section located at the bottom of the post.

Without further bloviating, I invite you to revisit, Friends along Our Path.

******************************************

The Path

This is my path.

It is not your path, it is mine.

Good or bad, it is my path.

I must travel it alone.

That is your path.

It is not mine or theirs, it is yours.

Good or bad, it is your path.

You must travel it alone.

At time our paths might intersect

Or, run parallel for a while.

We will visit, laugh, and cry.

Exchange experiences and offer advice.

At some point we may part

Perhaps to join up again

As our destination is the same

And our journey is long.

I wish for you a smooth path,

And a long, interesting, journey

Full of emotion and life,

Family and friends.

We will not arrive together,

Though our destination is the same,

But, I will wait for you, my friend

As I know you will wait for me.

I have received several requests to reprint this piece of poetry.  I used to write poetry back in the late 1970s then abandoned the habit after accumulating a "book" of it which was much too personally insightful.  Needless to say, I shredded it along with my office's past week's classified message traffic.  I have tried to start again, but the poetic muse is a shadowy phantom which seems loath to manifest itself the older I get.  Every now and then, however, my heart still overcomes my lack of material, or a special someone will spark the tinder.

Poetry, like art, is a matter of taste.  To the poet, like the artist, they are trying to communicate as much to themselves as to others.  To the academic community, poetry is defined so few can understand it:

Poetry is a form of literature that uses aesthetic and rhythmic qualities of language—such as phonaesthetics, sound symbolism, and metre—to evoke meanings in addition to, or in place of, the prosaic ostensible meaning.

Poetry uses forms and conventions to suggest differential interpretation to words, or to evoke emotive responses. Devices such as assonance, alliteration,onomatopoeia and rhythm are sometimes used to achieve musical or incantatory effects. The use of ambiguity, symbolism, irony and other stylistic elements of poetic diction often leaves a poem open to multiple interpretations. Similarly figures of speech such as metaphor, simile and metonymy create a resonance between otherwise disparate images—a layering of meanings, forming connections previously not perceived. Kindred forms of resonance may exist, between individual verses, in their patterns of rhyme or rhythm.

-- Wikipedia, "Poetry"

Well, this definition really makes me want to immediately run out to Barnes & Noble for some interesting poetry to read. This definition gives some credence to Socrates who once said, "I decided that it was not wisdom that enabled poets to write their poetry, but a kind of instinct or inspiration, such as you find in seers and prophets who deliver all their sublime messages without knowing in the least what they mean."  I think we all have a general idea what poetry is.  If it looks like a duck, swims like a duck, and quacks like a duck, it probably is a duck.

Have you ever wondered why we remember only snippets of famous poems?  

More than five or six quatrains, the four line stanzas, is about all I can stomach, much less try to remember.  At time it seems better to just remember the "meat" of the poetry than to drown in the carbohydrates, the substance?  I think this is probably the way most of us think, and why we latch onto the most meaningful verse, as in Robert Burns' poem, A Red, Red Rose: 

O my Luve is like a red, red rose
That’s newly sprung in June;
O my Luve is like the melody
That’s sweetly played in tune.

Those of us that actually received a quality education will remember this piece, but can we remember the rest of it?  It isn't all that long, as poems go, yet the entirety escapes many of us.  In this way, I think poetry truly reflects our lives as we travel our path.  We remember the interesting meat of it, but the fluff seems to fall by the wayside.  When it comes to people, however, we seem to be less discerning.

Which would you be more apt to remember, the cute little girl, the loyal friend, or the jackass?  The truth is, anyone we meet can be a friend along our path as long as we are willing to treat them as we would want to be treated.  With enough tolerance, love, and understanding, even the jackass among us can be seen as a worthy friend and might even find a gentler path for themselves due to our ministries.  But, many of whom we meet are destined for the fluff pile because we just don't seem to have the time, or won't make the time, to make them a cherished memory, a part of our life and our journey.

I will go out this Sunday and make a conscious effort to meet someone new.  With any luck they might shake up my inner poetic self, but the real gift will be the memory of meeting them, and so many others, along the journey.  

The challenge for each of us is to make the time.  It takes such little effort to try it.  Make the effort, for yourself, this Sunday.  As a matter of fact, try making the effort daily to make a new acquaintance.  Whether they become a friend or not, your life will be all the richer for having known them, and for you having made the effort theirs may be richer as well.

Editor's Note 

(re: disclaimer cum "get out of jail free" card) 

Before you go getting your panties in a bunch, it is essential to understand that this is just an opinion site and, as such, can be subjected to scrutiny by anyone with a differing opinion. It doesn't make either opinion any more right or wrong than the other. An opinion, presented in this context, is a way of inciting others to think and, hopefully, to form opinions of their own, if they haven't already done so. This is also why, occasionally, I will present an "opinion" just to stir an emotional pot. Where it may sound like I agree with the statements made, I'm more interested in getting others to consider another viewpoint. 

It is my fervent hope that we keep open and active minds when reading opinions and then engaging in peaceful, constructive, discussion in an arena of mutual respect concerning the opinions put forth. After over twenty years with military intelligence, I have come to believe engaging each other in this manner and in this arena is the way we will learn tolerance and respect for differing beliefs, cultures, and viewpoints.

We all fall from grace, some more often than others; it is part of being human. God's test for us is what we learn from the experience, and what we do afterward.

Pastor Tony spent 23 years with United States Air Force Intelligence as a planner, analyst, briefer, instructor, and senior manager. He spent 17 years, following his service career, working with an Institutional Review Board helping to protect the rights of human subjects in pharmaceutical research.  Ordained 1n 2013 as an "interfaith" minister, he founded the Congregation for Religious Tolerance in response to intolerance shown by Christians toward peaceful Islam. As the weapon for his war on intolerance he chose the pen, to wage his "battle" in the guise of the Congregation's official online blog, The Path, of which he is both author and editor. "The Path" offers a vehicle for commentary and guidance concerning one's own personal, spiritual, path toward peace and the final destination for us all. He currently resides in Pass Christian, Mississippi, where he volunteers as Chaplain Program Liaison, at a regional medical center.