fruition in poetry

There is this Fruition place
we’re all trying to get to
even though we’ve never been
even though we’ve never even seen its face
but we’re all trying to get there
at a frantic pace.

We’re heading to Fruition
via some vague intuition
while suppressing the suspicion
that someone made Fruition up
just to keep up going.
Is there really a space to get to
or is it just a con that keeps growing?

It’s all coming to Fruition.
It’s all just like we had planned.
Except we never seem to get there
and it’s more than I can stand.