When we might will our lives
to know the truth,
an honest parlay into letting go
of the pain, the symbolic nature
of a patterned response to
unhappiness,
are we legends
have we carved out that legacy,
or instead,
perhaps,
more likely,
remain in place drifting in
sweet refuge
a pool of deceit,
the place we scorn,
suggest only the most downtrodden
would hold up in such
a self-serving,
no humilation,
stance.
Could it be possible then,
to figure out how
to forgive ourselves,
or just be practical and allow
life to be known
rather than always
mysterious,
always designed around
crisis,
forever bound to personal
misgivings.
When the rambles finally stop,
we know then clearly,
our own mind-fucking led our lives
down paths we may
have chosen otherwise,
yet now today,
only we
alone,
are left to figure out
where to find that blossoming
horizon.
© Scott F Savage 11/2020
apersonaljourney - stories of love 