Movement




I’m moving on
past
the old boundaries of
I do not do that
I don’t think I can
I’m too old and
I’m afraid.

I’m plotting a new course
steering clear of old distractions
three steps forward
two back
taking the time
to listen and learn.

Pressing on because I MUST
and sidetracked
because
I hunger for what is comfortable
choosing safety
quelling my passion.

AND yet, I thirst
to make a difference
to leave my mark
to plant a seed, my seed
in the wild weed-ridden
misconstrued fields.
Hoping to turn wildflowers
into diamond pink petals and
lavender lined gardens
into a redolent harvest
of hybrid teas.

My arms open
willing to absorb the risk
stir in a bit of pain, discomfort.
I step up
into judgment
reaching out past the wise ones
the kupuna who have led me up to this place
the highest, most precious peaks
in the shadow of the Koolau
spreading their velvet-green robes
beyond
my self-imposed
self-absorbed limits
crowning present possibilities
seated upon this
pivotal throne.

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