Risking Life

To represent one's image
One's melodies
As but symbols on a stone-marker
Is to know only the grating sound
Of such existence
One’s engraved platelets of age
Vying to retain attention
While our attainment-history

Is often unacknowledged

Achievers often mis-read their course
So often bushwhacking their way
Even when the cosmos
Stands ready to raise the sun
Arc the moon
Lift the tides

Provide Nature’s assistance

For one's innate destiny

Often…

Our alter-self screams
Even as we bury any unresolved goal
In pillows of darkness
Beneath pulled-tight blankets of fear

We gaze blindly at our inner-maps
Time's patient gift of instinct
Affording navigation of mind

Yet…

We sometimes wander blindly
Or imitate other explorers
Busy realizing who they are

How easily we don their costume
Only to find a blank stage
Where audiences of you
You
And
You
Remain mute
Offering no applause
 
Such is the waste of destiny’s idle map pins
Pressed upon one's creative grid
Allowing matrix of choice to remain in limbo
Opting to pursue side roads
Afraid of throughways
That straight path
From a to z
Where inner trust
Intuitive knowledge

Cumulative experience
Vies to become wisdom
Even as it willingly faces peril

Simply put…

The journey of honesty

Asks we only be who we are
Avoid imitating who we are not

And take the risk on creating life worth living.