Meā Manu

Reminder: Sky Mufasa said it best. "Remember who you are."

I was writing another poem—

about seeing

with a new vision.

A vision of memory.

Not of the past.

But of myself.

To re-member.

Make whole.

Return

to who I have always been.

The new year—

it’s always been a time

for ambition.

For vision.

For bettering the self.

But what if the self

doesn’t need to be better?

Fitter.

Thinner.

Thicker.

Smarter.

Quicker.

A real city slicker.

What if the goal

is just to piece together

the parts I’ve forgotten?

Neglected.

Inspected.

Rejected.

The parts that made me—

me.

There is nothing innocent

about desire and dreams.

Imagination can be a beautiful thing…

And still—

I hear an echo.

An apologetic thought stream

moving through my mind.

Where did this desire come from?

Was it yours from the start—

or was it packaged

with pains

you can’t quite yet name?

And so we keep up

the project.

Of projections.

Embellishments.

Super-gluing our desires

onto a dense board—

bored

with the life

we already have.

When will I have enough?

When will I

be

enough?

When can I return

to the vision of freedom—

of me

caught in my hand,

made

awake,

as I am.