Kill myself
so I can be reborn.
Restrain myself,
so I can break me free.
Submerge myself,
so that I can breach the surface.
Hold myself down,
so that I can fly away.
Wretched are the dichotomies,
standards set too low,
double standards mandatory,
for the fledglings
still have no feathers,
and it is time to fly.
Leave the nest,
leave the fold,
leave the known;
into the unknown.
“Abandon hope
All ye who enter here”.
Hope won’t get me
where we need to go.
Tender words
won’t suture the rift wound
carved down the center
of my inner being;
only one foot,
in front of the other,
in front of the other,
over
and over
and over again
will get me there
and I am never stopping.
I have heard
many men claim that they have
“Been there. Done that”
and they speak of the place
as if it isn’t worth the journey,
but I know for certain,
that when I get there
and I see no footprints in the sand,
or traces of their passing;
that they were failed
and broken men,
who gave up the journey.
Who turned back.
Who quit.
There is pain
and then there is
the teaching kind.
There is love
and then there is
the burning fire.
There are tears
for those who did not survive
to finish their journey
and we honor them
at many points along the way.
I keep moving.
I’m not sure that I know
any other way,
but even my same is different.
Time move differently
in the strange wilderness
of the second act…
… or is it the third?…
… Lord only knows.
I’m still putting one foot
in front of the other,
in front of the other,
over
and over
and over again.
It will get me there
and I am never stopping.
HG – 2018
