Yet here I am,

I have not lost the light,

but like water behind a dam,

I stagnate, facilitate my plight.

 

The birds know the seasons,

“What a mystery!” from inside my glass box.

Consider the cave and other reasons,

the hardest is finding the locks.

 

The key I’ve always had,

It’s the questions that require the courage.

Run and hide it's only natural,

Find comfort in inaction and verbiage.

 

I am only the person I am today.

TS told me about how

times past and future are but a play

portraying all nows.

 

The truth, the beauty

is the choice

to open that door with no guarantee

of what lies beyond — give it a voice.