The Guiding Hand

When I look back
On the life I’ve lived
And the lives of
The ones I love,
I see a guiding hand
Behind our lives
I’m aware of.

It isn’t as though
All the events were
Laid out like a plan,
But things have
Happened to us
That I cannot
Understand.

I know we didn’t
Float along like
Aimless leaves
Upon a breeze,
Or lonely, helpless crafts
Wind-tossed upon
Some scary seas.

But we also
Never wrote a
Program for how
Everything would go,
And yet we have been
Players in an almost
Flawless show.

You can say
I’m dreaming,
And that’s not how
Things ever are,
But then you need to
Tell me how it is
We got this far.

And so whatever
Lies ahead of us
I fear no coming day.
For I expect
That what’s to be
Was ever meant
To be that way.

©2020 Jim Hagarty

Author: Jim Hagarty

I am a 72-year-old retired journalist, busy recovering from a lifelong career as an unretired journalist. This year marks a half century of my scratching out little fables about life. My interests include genealogy, humour and music. I live in a little blue shack in Canada and spend most of my time trying to stay out of trouble. I am not that good at it. I also spent years teaching journalism. Poor state of journalism today: My fault. I have a family I don't deserve, a dog that adores me, and two cars the junk yard refuses to accept. My prized possessions include my old guitar and a razor my Dad gave me when I was 14 and which I still use when I bother to shave. Oh, and my great-great-grandfather's blackthorn stick he brought from Ireland in the 1850s. I have only one opinion but it is a good one: People take too many showers.