In Spanish when something is over
And it can no longer change they say:
“Ya Fue.”
I should’ve done X,
Or I should’ve done Y,
“Ya fue” is what whispers as time passes by.
A barista, a profe, a ski bum adventurer,
A yankee from Ohio, and a business man.
But mostly just a guy who improvises most of of his plans.
I’ve glimpsed the heavens and their boundless delights,
And stared death in the face, uncertain if it was my time to take flight.
With a wry smile, I responded to death’s invitation:
“Not Yet, not quite!”
(My heart whispered faintly, “No, not today.”)
Parts of me wonders what might have happened
If my decisions were different
And walked down another path;
And left for Australia
With passport and plane ticket in hand
What adventures and people were waiting for me
In far away lands
Or if I didn’t leave the mountains of Colorado in haste
Would I still be nomad, embracing my inner flight
My backpack being my confines and my essence, intertwined?
And if I moved beneath Paraguay’s starry skies
And said yes to the job that I dreamed of for many nights
What impact might have I had in the land where dreams arise?
Or what if I never left my hometown, on Lake Erie’s shores
And scattered pieces of my heart in places throughout the globe
Would I the know what if feels like to be fully be at home?
Anyways, all those things, “ya fue.”
To live in the past
Is to live buried alive.
With confidence, I march onward
And accept each diversion and side trail
The divine is my inspiration and guide;
And is part of the way
I bid farewell to yesterday
To the lives and adventures that could have been
And the versions of me that I will never know –
Because all of that “ya fue.”
