Get Gone

Sometimes I stop
Atop the slopes and hills
To look back at the path
I’ve walked.

That can be foolish.

The danger is to assess
The worth of the trip
Whether
Given the chance
I would do it again.

But the true value
Of any pursuit
Cannot be fully known
Until journey’s end.

I do not say
I must never look back.
But do so carefully
Not to evaluate
But to celebrate.

I am glad for the trip.
I am warmed at the memory
Of those I have loved.
I am heartened knowing
Worth comes
Not in being loved
But in loving.

I count my blisters
But do so understanding
That every trip is costly.
The better the trip
The greater the cost
Not so much in money
But in the price of pain.

When I look back
I see those huddled along the roadside
Hesitant to get up and keep going.
They will eventually turn back
Lamenting all as failure.
I pity their lack
Of spirit and fortitude.
They must carry back
A great burden
Of self-loathing and woe.
They will gather about them
A crowd of like-minded failures
Affirming their determination
To cast away hope
In favor of futility.

I never walk alone
But neither do I walk
In a great company.
The way is lonely
But never alone.

Too much ruminating is not good.
Too much thinking
Wears at my already frayed edges.
There is a time to every season
And a purpose to every pursuit.

Sometimes that purpose
Is to wear down shoe leather
And get gone.