Remember that poem “oh the places you’ll go?”
Where we will end up really nobody knows.
At each fork in the road we take one less worn,
And hope to high heaven our dreams won’t be torn.
Planning ahead far as the eye can see
Doesn’t take away the dread of uncertainty.
We don’t know the future. We cannot forecast
The weather even, as shows our past.
The only way to live is the same as to walk,
One step at a time, following our talk,
And remembering to pause every mile or two
to smell the roses and appreciate the view.