He found the truth
Dug out a nice hole in his heart to hide it.
Tradition, institution and comfort
Like warm covers to hide himself.
The I Can’t mythology permeates his worldview
He dresses for it, like dressing for the weather
Wearing fear, pride, and self-prejudice like a three piece suit.
He sits in the boardroom
His truth screaming as he silently complies with the status quo.
He stands in the pulpit, revealing the shortcomings of the congregate
Their wounds judged as he bleeds crimson.
He choosing to live a life of blissful hiding was a success
Until he became sick…or really better.
The human body is not designed to suppress truth.
Like The U.S.S. Starship Enterprise was not designed
To take you shopping.
A pain of the heart, a falling out of his senses
A revelation of his heart, a demand to get off his comfortable fences.
He was scared to life, the moment he desperately waited for
He was living every day, like the first time a fish notices the water is wet.
This time, right now, is all he has, all which is given.
His pride, a sacrificial prerequisite in order to trade up
To vulnerability. To connection. To frail, flawed and beautiful humanity.
His perfection disguise melting in the rain of diminishing shame.
He had no idea what to do next.
Which, of course, is a lie.
He knew exactly what to do next.
The uncertainty of it working out is what began the journey
Of passionate curiosity.
He found the truth.
Dug a nice hole in his heart to hide it.
He did not think for a moment
It would take root and grow.