The Ikat Weave of Life
by Odin Roark

There was once another him.
Oh, he was the same flesh and bones.
He even kept track of both his names.
One for the stage.
One for the IRS.

That other him, the one that migrated,
leaving behind the stage of make-believe,
venturing across landscapes of real-life drama,
found that dramaturgy had taught him well.

It’s always gradual,
this departure from one’s norm.
Everyday beginnings arise before dawn,
flicking its prickly tendrils across nocturnal escape,
awakening the senses free of alarm clocks,
elbows from a bed partner,
or wet lickings from a dog.

And…

Something else is different on rising;
gazing out the window,
portends nothing but time one now owns
puting he or she at the ready to explore
pre-dawn darkness for illumination.

Many are ready to run into,
rather away from,
the promise to find out
who one truly is.


Thus…

This ikat-life streams forth,
a fabric of one’s past,
layers of experience,
tie-dyed patterns of what hopefully
will become rainbow-thread of wisdom,
a future-weave,
void of mistake’s knots.

Another stage characterization…

One revealing…