I have been a wolf and knew it,
from my dreams,
and my deepest senses, the primal,
and the way the sensation of touch feels as I touch you,
to all the perks of solitude,
the majestic sorrow,
the longing loneliness, that we love so sadly,
the searching freedom,
down to the brisk winter kiss of air, of mate.
Yes, I always knew it.
All my life...
I was a butterfly, and never knew it.
Wrapped in the bondage of conventionalism,
Struggling or sleeping, I'm not sure nor recall,
until my cocoon was slashed open
and my wings, fanned out
to Fly.
All my life...
I have been an artist and knew it,
excuse my eyes,
for the see too bright, too vivid, too grand a world you cannot see
Till I show through my creations, show you my eyes.
Eyes I wish you had-
But at the same time,
Scorn.
For they are poor eyes, poor eyes I adore,
For at least I have eyes to see the colors and the paper and the paint
that I want to use to create what all our eyes cannot see.
Even if that is merely blank clarity.
All my life...
There was a bell inside of me,
and I never knew it,
Till the moment the bell jar was raised,
and I was shaken and struck-
Gingerly at first, then pounded loudly,
so loudly I could hear myself sing, Oh so beautifully...
And now,
I ring out relentlessly.
All my life...
I was a lover and knew it.
I loved, and let them love me,
Let visions of grandeur rule me,
for I strove to be the greatest love of all time!
Then realized one day,
when it was all too much and breaking me
That humanity...
is the hardest thing to train how to love.
So I stopped trying to make my love amount to greatness,
and simply became...Love.
So, it may be,
For all of my life...
I have been a poet,
and didn't know it,
till now.
