The Journey, a Poem

Please note that I am open to comments or suggestions concerning my poetry. I'm hardly a professional.

The Journey

Some think that living is made of starts, some when your goals are done;
It’s the glow of a bud, it’s the flush of a win, it’s the burn of a falling sun;

But I think the living is in the path, in what lies over yonder hill:
It ain’t the mountains you have climbed, it’s the ones you’re climbing still.

It’s that moment afloat in time, the space between death and life,
It’s the joy of the chase, it’s the scent of the kill, it’s the moment of the strife;
When the war ain’t over yet, and you’ve got naught but your will,
It ain’t the battles you have won, it’s the ones you’re fighting still.

It’s that moment before the prize, it’s the chasing of a dream;
It’s the fall of a star, it’s the rise of a soul, it’s the fight of a scream;

Before the end of everything, before your visions are fulfilled;
It ain’t the road you’ve traveled by, it’s the ones you’re traveling still.

12:16pm 7/30/11