I want to be me,

not a thin

shadowy projection

of some one else’s idea

of what me

should be.

 

I want to be

gently opinionated.

not a replica

of this group’s

and that group’s

common wisdom,

wisdom that reflects

a place of safety,

or strategy,

not openness

or truthfulness.

 

I want to dig

the barren soil

of purpose

for my life,

not live in

the well-trod

gardens of

another’s meanings.

 

I want to live

boldly

and adventurously,

not holding back

or measuring

every painful step forward,

so that at journey’s end,

when I look back,

I have not come far at all.

 

I want to challenge

and confront,

not live in the

timid shade

of the establishment’s

big certain tree

that stands

impressive and proud

in the magnificent gardens

of civilised society.

 

And most of all,

I want my voice

to echo

and find its pitch,

be heard

across the clear waters

of time,

not dissolve in

some whisper

and then reflect painfully

back inside.

 

I want to be me,

ever and always

the me that looks

back from the mirror

truthfully,

even as I grow

older with

the gracious passing

of each expected

and unexpected day.

 

28/9/2015