Imprints

I picked up

The fossil and turned it

In my hand.

To most

A lump of rock, devoid

Of form and substance yet

Mysterious in its own way and in its own time.

The lines from

Living footprints staining a

Portrait on canvases of stone weathered

And rewarded by thousands of years of dirty work.

I wondered about

My imprints—those I withstand and

Those I create.

Are they lasting and do they profess

That heat and pressure form the man and make us a work of art?

I am amazed at the

Beauty of the shapes that grace its

Beaten and tired surface.

Yet it smiles from across time and

Triumph as it proves that many

Treasures can come from

A deep and dark and

Pressured

Place.

A Glimpse

I. I see that potential man in the distance

A mirage of what I want to be

Will I approach it?

Will I see it?

Will I touch it?

II. I have a story to tell

A story of love, of loss, and of second chances

That story has a beginning
That story has an in between

That story has an ending

III. It’s not true that everything that has been said has been said

There is always more to say

Can I reach that potential?

Can I make the dream become real?

Can I fit myself into that mold?

IV: I have two choices: to push forward or draw back

Either choice is scary and demanding

This time will pass

This season in my life will take me somewhere

This life is what I always wanted

V. It is scary to finally see your potential

Like a superhero whose powers begin to take form

Will I use them for good?

Will I use them for evil?

Will I use them to change my world?

VI. I finally see that man emerging from his shell

Although it seems late, maybe it is right on time

The choices are in front of me

The future will proceed in its unstoppable pace

The prize is there for the taking

Time to reach out and claim the destiny that is mine.