A spiral cord that ties me to my past
Spells out in code the story that is I
A story of my fate to be outcast
And face each morning with a battle-cry
Each battle means a chance to build a wall
A story is a prison made of gold
A shelter for the heart, but most of all
A story has the power to be retold:
An ancient city buried in the sands—
The memory of what has gone before
I’ll learn at last to live with open hands
In praise of what the spirit can endure
And so I give up who I used to be
Upon the altar of a future me
One of the most attractive traits I know is the capacity and not least willingness to change. An urge to grow and openness to heal. The fear of being left behind by a loved one on their journey of personal evolution died the moment I allowed myself to fall in love with their story instead of the momentary snapshot I happened to see when we met. Curiosity ties our future selves together. Though we might grow in different directions I believe that once we have been close, our paths will cross again and again.
