To Simply Be

A gratitude poem. Written on the plane back home after an arduous yet exhilarating work experience that challenged me to rethink my priorities.
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My haven; books, tea and endless folds of blankets.

When I was young

I wanted to be

cool and styled and sipping tea

at a desk, or coffee shop.

Amidst a crowd, I’d sit, stopped

in a mystic reverie;

Musing, writing, pen flowing free

in a journal, whose pages swell

with lines and loops and stories, tell!

A writer, in all turns of phrase;

to be one when I turned of age

was a wish I dreamed reality.

 

And now, astounded, here I sit

flying cross the air as swift

as those fateful flutterings

in my heart. Only, now save pen,

my fingers dart over keys,

like music playing;

words a-swishing and a-swaying

like a river in my mind

and to the page they come in kind

to life, to live, to immortality;

a record of my reality.

 

Who was once was a distant soul,

a protagonist o’er which I’d toll

and toss and toil and turn at night to be –

Alas! Behold! – is now me.

No more a figment, but self actually.

 

Now, as I ponder futures to come,

I sit back and marvel at what I’ve already done:

To travel and make friends in places strange and new;

To take on learnings that have challenged me and grew;

To question what is superficial versus what is true;

To, independent, traverse the earth

and find myself anew.

 

Inspired, I revere how life has reared its head

And through some pains, joy blossoms red

with heart and soul and possibility.

How wondrous it is, honestly,

To simply be,

And to be me.

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