The Things We Live for
by Mark Lipman

As I climb the hills of Lisbon,
this winding labyrinth of cobblestones
and tiled edifices, layered like some impossible dream
where fictional characters like Quixote and Ulysses live
to write their untold stories, where adventures stream
around every corner just waiting to surprise you
where the past and present become one and the sound
of music can be heard on every corner, here at this edge
of the world. I look out over the castles and hilltops
to the River Tagus and the great Atlantic beyond.

What lies ahead in this infinite wander?

The horizon holds promise,
yet she is a silent lover,
telling not her secrets to me,
holding the future in reserve
as I ponder that far off coastline
that once upon a time I called home
and know that no matter the consequences
the road only leads forward, there is no return
just as the years of my youth fade from view
the path ahead of me becomes clearer
there’s no telling what the journey brings,
what direction it will lead me in next,
only that it moves me further on
that I must trust in what has begun.

These are the moments we live for
and they won’t come again.

As long as there’s life in this body
breath in my lungs and strength in my bones
the only choice I have is to carry on,
to chase that dream and live the day,
trusting that life itself will find a way
that the only wrong move is not to try
at all, but more than try there’s only
do or don’t do, that’s all, before we die.

To taste the fruit and spices
to feel the four winds
blowing through your hair
as you navigate those shifting sands
to enjoy the laughter and the tears
both the sun and the rainy days
stretching from seas to deserts
to glorious mountain peaks
to kiss a stranger you only just met
to let life take you where it may
until you finally discover
something new about yourself.
These are the things we live for.

And if I’m so lucky to wake the next day
and start it all again, I’d do it all the same.



 

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