And if I look back ten years from now, what will I say of this day?
Did I make it worthwhile?
Will I remember it at all?
Will I remember the beckoning calls of cities asleep?
What will I know of this day?
I suppose it is the journey of not knowing the future that makes the present so graceful.
What changes do ensue from time?
We are ushered by it, not knowing what defining moment await us,
But still we trudge on because the beauty of our moments will be in the remembering, the existing, the discovering what has come, is coming, and will come.
The sun will still rise, and the days still turn; tears will still fall and minutes pass, but never will we forget the most cherished minutes. Funny, how it is usually the smallest of things that evoke the most emotions.

So, ten years from now, what will I remember of this day?
Will it be known as a defining moment?
Will it be remembered as worthwhile?
Will I still know the calls of such cities asleep?
I am certain of this, however, I will remember the journey and the beauty of it all, and the story will be one worth a tell.

So, ten years from now, what will you remember of this day?
Will it have been all that it could be?