he had missed his life By being far too busy looking for it

He sometimes felt that he had missed his life
By being far too busy looking for it.
Searching the distance, he often turned to find 

That he had passed some milestone unaware, 

And someone else was walking next to him, 

First friends, then lovers, now children and a wife.
They were good company—generous, kind, 

But equally bewildered to be there.
 

He noticed then that no one chose the way—

All seemed to drift by some collective will.
The path grew easier with each passing day, 

Since it was worn and mostly sloped downhill.
The road ahead seemed hazy in the gloom.
Where was it he had meant to go, and with whom?

 

[Dana Gioia {1950- } 'The Road', from 99 Poems New and Selected]