An Obscure Dirt Road

The greatest honor that can be bestowed
Comes not from having an obscure dirt road
Located far from the population
Receive one’s name in commemoration:
Whether one’s found dead or upon the earth.
By far, the treasure of the greatest worth
Is not to receive men’s honors, and such,
For time will prove that these do not mean much.
Instead, the things that are the most worthwhile,
Things that will crease one’s forehead with the smile,
Are the things that mankind most overlooks
While etching their legends for stones and books.
And what is it that men most underrate,
E’en as they vainly self-congratulate
For their business deals and tournaments won,
While leaving this their greatest task undone?
‘Tis true that one should seek to have success,
But its true form will no glory profess.
For this precious pearl of the greatest price
Has the cost of personal sacrifice.
Give of one’s own self to one’s family,
And later one’s children will grateful be.
One’s example one’s children will extol
For having kept the home and marriage whole.
They’ll say, “I learned this from my father dear,
And my mother taught me to do this here.
I wish they could be here to counsel me
As I raise my very own family.
For not even once did he raise his hand
To my mother, though life was not all grand,
And they taught me how to have faith in God
By walking in the steps the Savior trod.”
That’s an honor that can’t be supplanted.
Thus, take not one’s family for granted.
To thy family, self, and goals be true;
Be prepared so God will prepare for you.

Tortugas

The asphalt’s warm beneath my feet,
And on this cold day it feels sweet.
Its warmness bids me to linger
Like a ring upon its finger.
But I remember what was said,
“Do not tarry, or you’ll be dead.”
A humming’s coming up the road;
What wicked things it does forebode.
A motorized predator nears,
I close my shell to hide my fears.
It passes. The wind rips me ’round,
And new motivation I’ve found.
The old ones speak of smashed brothers
And those carried off by others.
And once you’re grabbed, claws cannot free
A turtle from man’s treachery.
Now, some transport one safely o’er
The road, but turtles cross once more
Hoping for mercy as before,
Though often winding up as gore,
Since they didn’t forge their way
And thought the road was just for play.
I can no longer idly wait,
Hoping for a merciful fate.
But with speed not thought to possess,
On I must diligently press.
The water’s safety beckons me,
But the road is a stark sentry.
I can’t hide in my shell always,
Cursing my unknown yesterdays.
I needed to go ages past,
But feared the cars that drive so fast.
So many have proven that to reach
The water with its grassy beach
Where ev’ry turtle longs to be,
One has to sprint to victory,
Risking the cars that never slowed—
Almost certain death on the road.