Risen

How to be forgotten is standing under the sun
fighting with your shadow
and shouting at it’s reference,
I asked you; “who am I?”

the sad tales that are sold
by those that know how to read to others,
say the rain is God’s helping hand
and if I’m prideful, don on my stepping stones,
how dare I become forgotten?

How to be forgotten is rising up per
life’s expectations and race against time,
if my breath can come and go,
will I meet my past self when I need to
… I’m expected to take another step, “who am I?”

I’m a lover, of many things hue and blue;
girl by the meadow hopeful,
girl by the window embroidering,
girl by the door waiting,
girl by the ocean reminiscing,
girl by, forgotten so long by her memories

How to be forgotten is I’ll rise up,
I catch many my passing thoughts
and put them all in a box to sort
under the first ray of sunlight, along with my shadow
before we bare our teeth, “who am I?”

I wish I were to become clear,
clear as the surface lake, my eyes before
they open from a dream I don’t remember;
the torment of mystery in my heart
would only be a tale told by those
that know how to read to others.