The Poem

You found the Green Light burning on the shore,
A love that does not waver or demand;
You found the ancient texts, the open door,
The heavy books that fit within your hand.

You found the work, the title, and the aim,
And lost them when the season turned to frost;
You saw the friends who faded from the frame,
And found the new ones standing at the post.

You found the child, the cradle, and the song,
The role of mother woven in the bone;
You found the shadow where the nights went wrong,
The chemistry that calms the blood and stone.

You found the fears that were not yours to keep,
The foreign thoughts implanted in the youth;
You woke the true desire from its sleep,
And traded old illusions for the truth.

You found the pieces—golden, dark, and shelfed,
A kingdom built of all you learned to be,
A life complete for everyone to see—
But tell me, did you ever find yourself?