My Reason for Being

It’s the question
I have asked myself
A thousand times
And maybe more,
What is my purpose
In being here,
What am I
Supposed to do?
I have always assumed
There was a reason
For everything
I had to go through,
That the any mistakes
I say I made,
Had to be made,
For there was always
A lesson to learn,
Or some insight to be gained.
Did I have to take
Such a circuitous route
To get where I am,
Or was it simply
The only path for me,
Given what I didn’t know?
I stumbled or tripped
Any number of times,
But each time I got up again,
And continued on the road.
I was never sure
If the path I took
Was the only one for me.
I could have gone
A million different ways
Then the way I went,
And I will never really know
Where any of the other
Paths might have led,
Except that my life probably
Would have turned out
Completely different.
Was some destiny
Predetermined for me,
And have I already
Fulfilled that destiny,
Or is my true purpose
Yet to come?
I think to the day I die,
I will always speculate
On why I am here,
And whether or not
The path I took
Was really right for me.