The rhythm is different as the years pass,
symmetrical stanzas break into flowing free verse;
as metaphors are swapped out for the actual truth.
This is as real as it gets; this is my world!
When did the, ever changing evolution of self occur?
Was in in leaps and bounds; perhaps moment by moment?
As i reflect on time played backwards through written words;
I find myself pondering the of the meaning of self expression;
I have joyfully, painfully, regrettably and mournfully captured
Tattered moments, memories; more and more poured
into little personalities that are all part of a greater reality
of one wandering a wondering road of what ifs about spirituality.
Out of loss and suffering comes the birth of a new reality;
a new personality, a new individuality – a new destiny!
Or perhaps, sadly,
only haunting images of personal nightmares stand out.