Even though Poetry was kind of enough to give me these two gifts, I was desperately in need of something more. I wanted to make sense of the accident, find peace after the pain. Although each bitter memory from the accident was burned into my brain, I knew this couldn't be all I gained from the experience. I knew there had to be more.
I know Poetry well enough to know I couldn't force her to visit. But I also knew she couldn't resist the opportunity to put her skills to work again on such a ripe topic. And so I waited. With a twinkle in my eye, I waited, knowing she would be back. And come again, she did.
She slipped in as if she had never left. She eyed me, and then, she left her gift in my mind and left.
Thank you, Poetry, for your visits. Thank you for every tear you helped wipe away, every confused thought you set straight, and every deep question you put a voice to. I am deeply indebted to you, and I'll look for you as I make my way down the path of life.
My Path
I see my life
Like a winding path,
Paved with pains and joys,
Dotted with trees of wonder,
Stippled with shadows of fear.
Like a winding path,
Paved with pains and joys,
Dotted with trees of wonder,
Stippled with shadows of fear.
I cast my gaze behind me
And see the gruesome visions
Of all the terrors
My sensitive soul has faced,
Each scar,
Each stitch,
Each seizure,
Each failure,
Each terrifying blow.
And the accident that flipped my life
Plays continuously,
In garish brilliance,
All around me Like my own Times Square
Of troubled memories.
And see the gruesome visions
Of all the terrors
My sensitive soul has faced,
Each scar,
Each stitch,
Each seizure,
Each failure,
Each terrifying blow.
And the accident that flipped my life
Plays continuously,
In garish brilliance,
All around me Like my own Times Square
Of troubled memories.
I say to them, “Oh, fearful spectres,
Though tears may come,
And come they do,
You don’t scare me anymore.
Though tears may come,
And come they do,
You don’t scare me anymore.
But if you want to join me,
Come and take this journey with me,
For I will not wait for you.”
Come and take this journey with me,
For I will not wait for you.”
And so, I collect the pieces of my soul
And turn my eyes ahead
To the shining city
High on a misty hill,
The emerald city of my dreams,
Which so often seems shrouded
In a dense fog of doubt,
My emerald city
Which so often doesn’t quite seem real.
And turn my eyes ahead
To the shining city
High on a misty hill,
The emerald city of my dreams,
Which so often seems shrouded
In a dense fog of doubt,
My emerald city
Which so often doesn’t quite seem real.
Taking steps forward,
Steps of faith and steps of fear,
Steps of love and steps of loss,
I move towards that city on a hill,
Choosing to believe,
With all that I am,
That the shining city is real,
And it is not so far off as I thought.
Steps of faith and steps of fear,
Steps of love and steps of loss,
I move towards that city on a hill,
Choosing to believe,
With all that I am,
That the shining city is real,
And it is not so far off as I thought.
It is my emerald city,
Where I know
My wings
Are waiting.
Where I know
My wings
Are waiting.
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