I ask that you do me this one favor,
That before you grow too old,
Before your mobility escapes you,
That you will embark on one last grand adventure.
Because as you lie in bed,
Unable to crawl out,
Nearing the end,
You will experience regret.
You will regret every step you never took,
Every path you never traveled,
Every mountain you never climbed,
Every river never crossed.
Every train you never rode,
Every stranger you never saved,
Every villa you never stayed in,
Every city skyline never found on the horizon.
Every ruin you never explored,
Every temple wall you never studied,
Every cave you never entered,
Every treasure never found.
Every island you never spied,
Every ship you never sailed,
Every star you never navigated,
Every port never tasted.
Every battle you never fought,
Every injustice you never protested,
Every trial you never completed,
Every distance never gone.
Every picture you never took,
Every word you never wrote,
Every memory you never made,
Every possibility never imagined.
You will regret it all.
Or, perhaps you won’t.
Perhaps you will look back on your life,
Thinking that it was not so bad,
That you did the best you could,
That you are content with the minor victories of a dull life.
But do you really want to take a chance on it?