And now I see, so tangled and taut,

The threads of a life in an eternal knot.

No escape from the conundrum around,

Though ingenuity and brilliance abound.

Whilst such potential lurks in the air,

There are times I think twould be simpler

Not to care.

But whether more difficult or no, 

Care I do, 

Though oft caring brings fire

I must go through.

What darkness does not enthrall me 

When my all's engulfed?

Am I a pure lamb, or 

Some remorseful wolf?

As I wonder, lamb or wolf

holds the upper hand. How seldom

Do I find those kind enough to hear

And understand.

Yet, and yet, I recall special souls,

Each who aided a writer

In rising from his falls.

I look around, knowing that every soul

That's near,

Will battle their own mountains, oceans, 

Fires, challenges, and fear...

Down in the dregs of my heart's remains

Glancing still deeper where Indomitable reigns

I discover hidden, unbroken I see,

The secret elixir, imprisoned in me:

Chance.  Tis mine, un-tethered and free.

Indomitable Me, I take it up,

Set to pour Chance into my cup,

When some gentle voice murmurs, "Don't."

I feel, though balm in elixir's shown,

To drink my assured victory, I won't.

Setting Chance down, turning to go,

Before me stands one whom I well know.

A woman, rarest beauty ever the same.

Never unhappy.  Never ashamed.

Ever believing.  Hope is her name.

Her hand reaches out.  I do not retreat.

The hand of Hope, and my shoulder, meet.

Into my eyes, she views my all.

I feel neither broken, nor strong, short or tall.

I feel just me.  Hope sees through my wal...

The dawn breaks upon her, her mind is at war,

Seeing so many that she could live for.

Friends and companions ring her around

While foes ahead make a chilling sound.

First starting low, now growing, the chant

Is more than a battle cry, a curse or a rant.

Once a sound of love, tis now not the same.

The enemy seeks her.  They are calling her name.

Thousands of hands grip weapons more tight.

Twill be impossible to make these quit the fight.

She has saved each, in time past, from death.

For her they will give their very breath.

Their opponents are strong, fanatically so.

As they start the charge, her tears freely flow.

She knows each foe knows her.  They, too, she once healed.

“Traitor,” they think. “Our sister's fate is sealed.”

Now her adopted kin lay do...

First I was an animal, a jungle cat so wild.

I fought each day.  I sought new ways,

My prey to beguile.

I then became a boulder on a grassy mountain's side,

Covered with fuzz.  I loved it because

I did not have to try.

I changed into a plant, a beautiful petaled rose.

My defense was beauty, I could see

Twas the best I'd ever chose.

A petaled rose, a boulder, a jungle cat that fought.

Each had worth, no matter their girth.

The same they were not.

I then sat down to tell a tale about these parties three,

How each had part, and found their start,

In the heart of me.

But when I lifted hand to put ink down on page,

My Muse took me, carried me on,

To another age.

Twas a peculiar age.  Every living soul

Had their vice, had their vocation,

Had their own set goal.

...

I made a butterfly.  I breathed him to life.

I watched him flutter away.

A part of me wished he'd fly far and well.

Another, that he would stay.

A third part of me, the strongest yet,

Wanted, him, to be,

For oft in life I have this wish to be

Anything but me.

Whose butterfly have I been?

Do any wish to be me?

Or are all glad they aren't confused, like me,

When they look around to see?

I made a butterfly.  He said to take heart.

I had not known I could.

But if I could create such living beauty,

Maybe, probably, I should.

When I make another butterfly,

Will anyone take note?

Or will no one remember the precious, sacred, wondrous things

I wrote?

She was a sorrowing friend of a friend.

A friend that pulled her close,

Brought her to me, to hear inspiration.

I gav...