What I Make of Me
In my hand I hold a sword
To defend or to slay?
As one you are the victim
And the other you have prey.
Future odds determined by what
A past has written.
What good is old and wise
If I withhold my secrets?
Are you listening?
This is very important.
I am me and me is her
Her is she and she is three
Waddling beneath the branches of a
Towering peach tree.
I am from overalls
From the caterpillar garden
And plastic log cabin.
She is from chili and 6’5”
From Bill and Patt
“Livin E-Z king of crabs”
And the “soul in the soft white chairs”
Her shortcake escaped on an extendable fork.
One pair of feet pattering to undefined rhythms.
Dancing gets the blood flowing,
Flowing blood keeps you alive.
Dancing is essential to survival.
Reason rationalizes everything.
Just because I’m grown up
Doesn’t mean she can’t learn.
From myself
I am.
She will.
Break a window.
Not on purpose and not one of yours.
At a young age is best, just like when
You should learn to whistle.
Tell a lie at some point;
Try to make it necessary.
Never lie when the truth is needed
And the other way around.
Build a fort in her bedroom;
Invite all of my friends over.
Offer tea, pour milk.
Sleep under the stars,
Undaunted by cloudy skies.
Her past
Is my poetry
She will read
Someday.
She is her and her is me
Me is I and I am…
Whatever I believe.
Just remember that fear and hope
Are both residents of the
Same civilization
Participants of an antediluvian cycle
Falling under the same perimeters
That the only thing strong enough to cut a
Diamond
Is itself.