I like this one, but I also don’t like this one…

When you forget who you are, what reminds you? Is it your name or where you grew up? The wisdom of ancestors passed down? A lover? When you remember why you forgot, was it because who you were fell below your hopes? When you’re reminded of these hopes, are voices whispering to try again? Dancing like a fire? Like a poem? Like a victory? A defeat? Appraise them all. Turn a stone. The corner. Is it your possessions? A fear of dispossession? Is it a member of your tribe? Or lack thereof? Is it a shame? Is it a rage or the quieting of one? Being alone or making others feel such? Stretch out your courage over a lifetime. A day will come. Summoning war and peace within you and without you. Is it a movement that stopped moving because the pressure won you over?  Or a symphony that made you feel a little further? Only time can tell as the years stack and hearts blossom like the first weeks of Spring—a beauty for anyone to behold if only perennial nature would grant us the space to pay attention.