This is dedicated to all those fine beings . . .
Those who are blatantly themselves
You know the ones I mean -
When starting out, they had folks
who jabbed a finger yelling: You! You! You!
accusing them of being quintessentially themselves
. . . as though that was wrong.
They are the YOUs who come from multi-colored places
and varied dreams
They are the ones with hearts woven of joy and wonder.
They are womanish or manish.
They are childlike and adultish.
They run from the gray streets to the green forest.
They take to long-lost roads and never-before-found pathways
They carry a song in their backpack and
a brown-bag lunch of no-baloney sandwiches.
When they elder they arrive back at the beginning
. . . knowing who are they are
. . . . . . and why.
"ONE’S-SELF I sing—a simple, separate Person." Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass
© 2012, poem, Jamie Dedes (The Poet by Day), All rights reserved; photograph courtesy of Jonathan Sullivan, Public domain image.
HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!
THANK YOU FOR READING AND SHARING.
DON'T FORGET TO VISIT
a publication of Bequine Again and The Bardo Goup