The Beauty of the You that’s Me

I couldn’t see you standing there… All along… Watching from the sidelines… I thought you were tarnished, ruined… Discarded along with the best and worst of me… But now there you are: Renewed… peeking your head out of the fortressed curtain you’ve been hiding behind… Or is it me that’s been hiding from you? No clue. But these days it’s nice to see the face of an old friend… even if only a vague sense of familiarity, striking a chord, that once I knew… that once I remembered… you’re so familiar, but can what once was lost now be found? I’d like to believe it to be possible… to be true… daydreams shifting into day walking lives I’ve seen before… I’ve imagined before… but be it premonition or determined reactions causing opposing Reactions which now set in place the present that now settles… And around you swirls a twister of ash and dust… Reborn to me of the now, in the time of the Present, asking for a simple chance to be and dust be free: the beauty of the You that’s me…