Not Lost

I don’t think my life is wasted.
I see myself mirrored in many of my youthful visions,
I have waited patiently for those forms to arise,
I was not lost.
I was held tenderly in my own embrace,
Wanting only the most authentic of those visions to bear fruit.
Who am I, who was I, –
As I banged out notes on keys,
Striking the chords of my attempts to give form to my newest self.

I am forever re-approaching my highest achievements,
Propelled higher, further, longer, deeper.
In my deepest bliss,
In my dance of unfettered bewilderment,
Flushed, exhausted, hungry, drained, –
I touched my heart,
I touched the heart of all that is beating around me.

I see myself mirrored in the sky,
Free of all restraints,
Ready to embrace something I can’t put a name to.

I place myself in this moment time and time again,
Ready and willing,
And then grasping at something that melts between my fingers.

I don’t think my life is wasted.
I am not lost.
I am who I was, and was, and was.
I am a complete mystery to myself.

I found, I find, that all that I am is being reborn and reborn,
Again and again and again,
One more time, I have come back to myself,
I have visited me from my unborn peace,
I am embracing me,
Who I have seen once before,
Looking back envisioning the future.

I am not lost,
Perhaps I am only seeing things differently than you.

Perhaps I am not waiting at all…


photo:  Zhenya Bakanova, Alex Grabchilev