Found this poem great poem today here. Lovely. I thought it might have been a Frost poem, but alas it was just a random person I found online.
While walking once I found I’d missed
A turn or two along the way.
A clearing stood with Autumn’s mist
Still hanging, gorgeous, gentle grey.
Sad to say, I did not linger,
But walked again back to my home.
I did not stop and sit to sing there,
I did not run and race and roam.
I came to find my house was stolid,
Unchanged, unmarked, unhurt, and known-
What would have passed if it had fallen?
Would I have built another home?
What turned me back from exploration?
What wind blew me back to shore?
What was not worth my exultation?
Would I walk that way once more?
The brave among us wander onward-
They seek a plot untouched by man.
The meek, like me, turn back, but wonder-
Must all our lives be known and planned?
So, travelers, when the night turns dreary
When walking further seems like war
When bones and chest and feet grow weary-
Walk yourself a mile more.