Perhaps if I’d danced some less,
it would have been easier on my joints,
but what would have been the cost of my soul?
Perhaps if I’d loved some less,
I’d have been spared some of the heartache,
but then who would have showed my soul how to fly?
Perhaps if we’d slowed up some,
we wouldn’t have gone screeching into so many brutal mornings,
but we’d have thinner blankets of laughter to shield us on impact.
I know how easy it is to stack regret,
how easy it is to be sorry and wish away the past,
so easy that we sometimes forget the happiness of the moments as we lived them.
There is something to be said about having made it through
and being together when we did it, something to be said about
the bonds that were formed and the hands holding each other
as we gaze back over it all.
Those bonds would be weaker if it had been easier and
less damage had been done, so we pay homage to the trek
and console each other when we need.