Without a map, you can go anywhere,
but you might not want to be there.
With a map, you can choose your destination,
but you might miss lots of treasures on the way.
Without a map, you never know what’s coming —
fair weather or foul, faithful friends or scoundrels,
delicious food or piss-poor cooks.
With a map, you can make reservations,
let them know you’re coming, that you expect the best.
I traveled sixty years without a map.
For my last forty, I’m choosing
where I go,
how I get there,
and whose company I keep.
This is one of those “makes you ponder” poems. Like which person do I want to be, you know? Thanks for writing it.