Like ancient petroglyphs
scratched across rugged, rocky surfaces
A crisscrossing pattern of
lines juts haphazardly outward from the corners of my eyes
As the days and months,
moments and years pass, these wrinkles etch themselves Deeper and deeper
A pronouncement of
reconciliation for the chronicle of my life
Hope and hopelessness,
health and stress, wonder and fear, joy and anger
Great choices, poor
choices, choices not made and choices made without my say
No archaeologist invades
my face seeking knowledge
No friend
No lover
No child
I am the keeper of these
tales
They are my rite of
passage
These lifelines
A legacy hard won
Creases marching across
the landscape that is mirrored back to me
Displayed for public
consumption, reverence or shunning
Listen, listen they
whisper
My own story folding and
unfolding
Renderings
Bow down to me and I will
bow down to you
These ancient petroglyphs
scratched across rugged rocky surfaces
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