The Future is Forever Unknown: a Poem

Twilight strikes and the world ignites,

born into a family of complexity

the future is forever unknown.

Shaky steps and muttered words

I marched headlong into destiny,

or complete confusion.

Six years boxed within four walls

I grew, I learned, I existed,

and experienced the short river of childhood

where the waves were rough,

the cliffs were high,

and the future is forever unknown.

On the seventh rotation around Sol

the bird’s nest fell from the tree,

and mama stole her chicks

“to fly south for the winter”,

but we never returned home,

and one flew over the cuckoo’s nest.

Instead a home was built

from spittle and bloody feathers.

I found my own home, within bells,

schedules, and simple orders

but the future is forever unknown.

Friendships were born, rivalries forged,

shoelaces untied, tied, and untied again.

The bubblegum blonds smacked their lips,

the boys pushed and shoved for a kiss,

and I changed my chameleon skin

to match the brick walls.

The future is forever unknown.

Life continued it’s dull voyage

of textbooks, bad hair days, and chores.

Until Dad broke more than a wing.

My sisters say he was trying to fly,

But a noose around the neck

is a strange way to soar.

My world sank into dark waters that tossed,

and turned me like a broken doll,

slamming me into the rocks, rocks, rocks

until my lungs were flooded.

We journeyed to a “new home”

where life was to be happy, perfect, and full

but the future is forever unknown.

I dived into a new fish tank

full of foreign identities,

and fishermen with empty nets.

The halls were full of refuse

that bubbled between gaping fish lips,

and filled our pubescent minds.

I threw myself into the pen,

and bled my woes in ink

that filled page, after page, after page.

My shadows began to fade with new light,

purpose was restored with written word,

and 365 days later I learned to breath

without tears in my eyes

or water in my lungs,

but the future is forever unknown.

The very first buoy I met

was bobbing up and down

within in his own hurricane.

I thought my wings could handle the weather,

but my hollow bones were too frail

and he broke me in two.

Trapped in his golden cage

with wings that were clipped and a bruised mind,

this little birdy became decor

for the devil’s short red hair.

The future is forever unknown.

I counted my longs days and nights

with prisoners’ calendars

of rugged tally marks.

913 days of lost sunsets passed,

and finally the cage’s lock broke.

A flightless bird leaped and prayed to soar,

with tattered wings, and scarred talons

I became myself by myself,

but the future is forever unknown.

Once the bruises faded,

and the internal fog lifted

I opened my eyes to see a new world.

Opportunity was limitless,

love was bountiful and light hearted,

and strangers listened to wisemen’s tales

of Noah, Eve, and mercy.

But the dark water’s waves never faded

instead they became more manageable.

The future is forever unknown,

but a smooth sea never made a skilled sailor.

So tempt the waves and bring the storms,

I’ve faced worse than angry hurricanes.

Sterling, 2015