How many times have I believed
I've come to the journey's end -
when I arrived at a certain age,
made a momentous decision,
reached a significant milestone?
This, I think, defines me.
This makes me into someone new.
Now I am . . .
a teen
a driver
an adult
a mother
a career woman
a wife
a "displaced worker."
Is life a succession of endings then? 
Or a weaving trail of new beginnings?
Perhaps, instead, an assortment of intertwining paths
which sometimes curve back upon themselves,
or veer off into unknown territory -
the deep, dark forest
which holds both the frightening
and the fascinating,
or parallel the roads of others,
sharing views but not perspectives.
All paths without end or with ends unknown ~~
