Wishing no more...

Wish I told him how much I loved him. How much he meant to me. How close we should have been.
Wish I told her what a beacon she was in my life. How I respected what she stood for. How I admired her courage and industry.
Wish I fed him when he was hungry. That I carried him everywhere I went, so he wouldn't starve or spend the nights alone and cold.
Wish I recorded those moments. The un-recreate-able moments that are now just fuzzy memories.
Wish I didn't listen to those nay-sayers, damn I'd be far by now.
Wish I was there, played my part while they grew, knew them and got them to know me.
Wish I wrote those songs that played in my head all day and all night.
Wish I painted those scenes, while my imagination ran wild. While the paint was still wet and fresh, while the canvas was still stretched tight.
Wish age didn't catch up before I set foot on the field; not as a hobby but to push my gifts to their limits.
Wish I said something, to her, to him, while they were within earshot, in a receptive mood.
Wish I did not get to the 'What if...?' point. That I explored, discovered, risked, turned things over, and never wondered what lay beneath, when it mattered no more, too late in the day.
Wish I never wished. Wish all my wishes were fulfilled, that I lived my dreams, and wished others would stop being wishful and just be like me.
Wish I never have to wish again, because I hold the wish button; not to wish on it but to press on it, to realize what it holds for me.
Wish no more...
Pick that phone and say those things, take that trip and see those places, risk it all and live it all, paint that scene while the canvas is stretched, write those songs, feed that neighbour, love that spouse, nuture that child, play that sport, press that button and wish no more.....