“I bow to no beast.”
― Keisha Keenleyside

Me, 1993

As I stand upon a knoll
And gaze in silent contemplation,
I see my life as it's been:
The little girl with lonely eyes,
The lonely teen with angry heart,
The angry young woman
Awash in a sea of self-loathing.
And I wonder to myself,
Is this all there will ever be?


Me, 2024


I gaze down from
Atop a mountaintop
Upon the valley below,
And see the paths
Upon which I've trod:
The forwards and backwards,
The starts and stops--
All the often
Wavering lines
That mark each travail,
And my every triumph
Over them;
I look upon those darkest moments
When Death rode my spirit
With its deeply set claws,
And I see the Light
That never left me,
The Flickering Flame of Hope
Going before me
That Death's opiate promise
Could dim, but
Never extinguish.
I am here today
Despite it all.
Perhaps my life isn't perfect,
For what veteran of war
Bears not a single scar?
But those scars are badges,
Proof of my tensile strength
Forged of grit,
And faith,
And absolute cussedness,
The bedrock of my refusal
To let Them win,
They with their beloved faces
And They with no faces at all.
I was there,
I am still here,
Until God Him or Herself
Calls me home.

c. 2024