I Hear a Symphony

In times past

I found myself lost in the woods

Unbeknownst to myself and impervious to man

Humming amongst the giants of the misty forest

Overcast by haze of existence, gripped by monsters of my own fantasy

Drenched by drops of dew from the venomous green lubricious moss

My knees are too frail to stand up

And my heart is too squinched to open up

But far away from where I’m kneeling

With my slow pulsing vein and dripping sweat of defeat

I hear a subtle hint of a symphony

It whispers to me gently

As it seeps through the wind, weaving against the mist

Intertwined with my secret curiosity

The tune awakens the silence

As it starts to tickle and rattle my senses

Desire. Jealousy. Lust

The harmony feels just about right from this distance

Safely contained, camouflaged, and obscured

I brace myself and I steadily rise

I tilt my head higher, yet lower than others

I gaze onward, yet alert to the hundred eyes peering behind me

One might question why is it so difficult to walk

But one doesn’t realize that poison ivies bloom in closeted secrecy

This never ending quest to find self requires gallantry and basics of humility to be proud, 

not just a speech or a grand gesture or a show-off

Because waving flag is simply not enough

It requires an infinite heart surgery

To reassemble the unfit jigsaw puzzle back together

And carve new pieces to replace the bogus ones

I open my palms

I cross my fingers

I flip my scarf

For love and acceptance

For tens I’ve searched down alleys of the untraveled

And the forbidden forest of mischiefs and misconceptions

But I think the age of revelation is near

It should be right in front of me

Once I’m brave enough to shed my mask and blindfold

Once I surrender to the warmth of the notes to carry me 

To steer as it caresses my ears

To where I should run

To be where I belong

The gentle melody sounds mellow, yet epicly composed

It vibrates every nooks and crannies of my inelastic fuselage

Every strand of my hair stands up in excitement, turbulence, and reverence

What a beautiful life

or perhaps menacing and disfigured in its flawed beauty?

It’s dusk I can barely see any twigs, nor vines

But “keep walking” I hear

So I listen and do

One valiant step at a time

One cautious stride on every fork I find

To hope of dawn

To a destiny still unknown

To an ode of pride

To the symphony I hear

To which one day I will find