Poem | Creativity
Never Ending Storyteller
Unfettered Poetry
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I am not my story but the storyteller,
I am the adventurer, not the adventure.
Like a disappearing path behind me,
My adventure dissolves in my wake,
Always flowing fresh and new before me.
Unless I stall, unless I’m a couch potato
In my own story, where monotony rules
Every day with sameness, with no go,
With poverty of heart and limitation
In a delusionary cage of fearing imagination.
In that case, my story is my own damn prison,
Of my own making, with fetters and shackles,
Curtailing my arising from a sluggish nightmare
I’ve painted redundantly in a monotone palette,
Of aging salty stale chips and dusty repetition.
To break those binding chains, to throw off
Webs of morass, to climb from clinging quagmires,
It is not so tough as being stuck in them might seem.
It simply takes a mid-story crisis, a glimpse of
Verity from one’s real me, a flash of…
