To Ube From Cup A Joe, Volume VII

Speed and soar, languish and burn, I plod thru stretches and race thru mountains, me, us, three, wandering but on a found path, chosen but not selected, picked but not preferred, a life of second choices, an existence of do-overs, a world of informed decisions, me, sugar in my pocket, a tater tot for a heart, kicked into awakeness and lied into awareness, the tricks, the pleas, the games unplayed, cynicism unfurled, hope unleashed, memories unremembered, I walk on, wise man's burden, the former me walking in my shadow, who I was only yesterday, who I am a lurking tomorrow, so chase that mirage, pursue the brilliance, up around that bend isn't what you thought it was, because that music plays on another realm -- or plane?-- the realm I live in a barrier to sound, strong enough to bear, smart enough to release, but don't release, pile it on me, keep kicking my wakefulness, I carry all I need on my back and shoulders, this new shell has shed that other skin, in the pinprick of a heartbeat, so lo my optimism, lay down that cynic's heart, cast aside that ironic banner, it's me, who I always was and knew was always there, in that shadow, behind that other shadow, waiting for that perfect place in the valley, in the mountain, in the canyon, to step out into the light, my light, now only to carry it to this next place, where no shadows dwell where the light always shines, my light, my valley, my mountain, my canyon, my light, hear this feel this, it is, it must be, my light. My light.