What, This Man?

(The Poetry Series #1)

I walked in the rain, feeling the cold life that fell upon me with every drop. Each drop, a world of life and memories that brought a smile to my steadied demeanor. And I recall the many days of old when I, and my friends -- my true friends -- would galavant around, frolicking in the downpours of the deep South getting soaking wet and loving every minute of it.

I am taken back to those days of youthful glee and newness. I am reminded of the ways in which I once viewed the world... so innocently, so splendidly, so excitedly. I am caused to smile at the ways in which we would find the simplest things to stimulate our unstoppable imagination. Oh, the wonderous joy that filled me then... and even now as I sit and recollect where my mind takes me.

What has happened to me along my journey of life? How can it be that so much of what was great, empowering, thrilling and inspiring to me has fallen from my psyche? Has it... really? Of has something more sinister and irresponsible within me been allowed to squelch my passion, my need, my desire, my calling -- beckoning me away from my predestined path?

What, This Man? What is he today as he goes about the business of life and the pursuit of dreams? What motivates him to keep walking, keep doing, keep believing? What within him refuses to stop challenging those internalized restraints that so often destroy dreams?

I have pondered on this for many hours, many days, many years, and I have come to believe I am the cause for everything that has happened in my journey - in my life. The choices were all mine to make and wether I made a choice or not, they still remain my property and cannot be shaken. The responsibility for the triumph and the adversity rest squarely on my shoulders -- and I gladly own it.

It is true there have been those who have harbored ill will towards me, who have sought to break my will, defeat my happiness, diminish my joy. There have been those who have tried -- in vein -- to ruin this notion I maintain that I am happy, and that I truly can always be happy... for I truly am... happy.

What, This Man? The one who would rather walk in hunger than to ask of those who think bad of me. What, This Man? The one who would rather believe in Love, and Happiness, and Joy, and Human Goodness, then to allow the hurts and pains of the past to distort my reality. What, This Man? The one who would rather hold his tongue then to say that which is hurtful to those unwilling to receive the truth.

There are many who have bough into the notions and machinations of the world at large... who think life is grind, and then you die... who think we all struggle because that is out lot in life... who think their vast material possession demonstrate their goodness or represents their greatness. There are many that walk the wide path to empty fulfillment and selfish gain. There are many, indeed.

As well, there are many who choose to stiffen our backs to these derogatory thoughts and these practices of reckless abandon. And while we appear to be a lone snowflake in the midst of a blazing hell, out common bond of kinship and connectedness insures we will prevail... and that the hardships we face create in us the greatest metal. It is in sensing this truth that our Spirits gives rise to the many smiles we share that are anchored in this deepest knowing: that what is ours to have will soon become ours to hold.

What, This Man? And yes, that Man too. And yes, that woMan also.

The rain has stopped and the clouds above share with me their calming spirit. The wind softly licks upon my cheek and I smell the cleansing of this Earth.

I flash back to the innocent beauty of my childhood where, deep in the humid woods of Savannah, Georgia, I and my younger bother would sneak out onto the dirt roads and bury our bare feet in the wet land. Where we would play for hours on roads we built there in the partial mud, and dream our dreams, play our games, and experience a brotherly connectedness that so many sadly forget.

I flashback to the young boy of the ripe age of thirteen who found a flat board, a water puddle, and then imagined he was surfing. I recall water-filled boots and soggy socks as I meandered home, afraid of the coming whipping, but loving every minute I dwelled in my dream world.

I come to understand the value of Dreams and how one must always have one to believe in. I come to appreciate the powerful inertia one develops when a dream is embraced and faithfully pursued. I come to respect the paths of the many thousands who have walked before me -- and who now walk along with me -- and who weathered storms of the greatest magnitude to realize their dreams.

There is a path for all, the journey we are obligated to travel, the adventure we must fearlessly pursue. It beckons one and all to remember their dreams... to discover the strength that is resident within... to question and overcome their fabricated barriers to realizing their greater selves. It dares to force you to look into your mirror of truth, at all that you are - strong and weak, and claim the God-given journey that only you were called to traverse. For in truth, it is only you who can walk your journey.

Delight, inspiration, humbling moments, personal evolution, inner peace, and the true knowing of self are the guaranteed rewards. If we but only take the first step.

What, This Man?

Indeed, This Man.