I am Alive, A short poem

I am Alive
By: Ryan Beodeker

I am lost.
The four corners of my bedroom encompass a space vaster than the universe. The very cosmos themselves have manifested here; time for present to venture to past as future looming becomes present.  Set sail for tomorrow. Leave today behind.

I am on a journey.
A Spanish galleon. A mighty majestic boat of some great distant age rides along the far reaching tides. The brilliant manila sails flap and snap in the breeze; the ropes tighten and the boat races forward. Always moving forward.

I have been marked.
I am marked. Shards of the past break forth from the depths of my hidden soul. These tattered remains of long lost memories serve their purpose; for I am now branded. I am now labeled. I am now judged.

I am wandering.
The great forest serves to house me. I hide among the lush green trees and thick under brush. I make my bed in the tallest of oak trees. High, high up among the stars in the night sky; I sleep on top the canopy of trees. My night song is that of rustling leaves as the trees dance to the wind.

I am alone.
The desert is bright and the sun is cruel. The heat beats down on me scorching my flesh; burning away the layer of middle class entitlement as I am thrust down into the trenches. I am tossed out into the fiery sand. I am cast out.

I am hopeful.
Sure as sunrise there will be a sunset. Sure as the day follows night do I believe in the future; a blank canvas and all the colors of the world to paint with; the decision yours to make. 

I am alive.
Air fills my lungs. Water calms my needing thirst. A hand reaches out to offer companionship. A fair wind comes my way. In the face of mistrust I shall rebuke and denounce. I am alive; that’s all that counts.