A Story That Could Be True

If you were exchanged in the cradle and
your real mother died
without ever telling the story
then no one knows your name,
and somewhere in the world
your father is lost and needs you
but you are far away. 

He can never find
how true you are, how ready.
When the great wind comes
and the robberies of the rain
you stand on the corner shivering.
The people who go by–
you wonder at their calm. 

They miss the whisper that runs
any day in your mind,
“Who are you really, wanderer?”–
and the answer you have to give
no matter how dark and cold
the world around you is:
“Maybe I’m a king.” 

~ William Stafford

[Setting an intention for the new year: re-start the poetry posts. The beauty of
intentions over resolutions? They can never be broken but are easily restarted.
A wonderful 2018 to each and all! -z]

Bankruptcy before the thunders silence

The
years thunder
by.

The dreams
of youth grow
dim, where they lie caked
in dust on the
shelves of patience.

Before we
know it, the tomb
is sealed.

Where then
lies the answer?

In choice. Which
shall it be:

bankruptcy
of purse or
bankruptcy of life?

--Sterling Hayden, Wanderer
(arranged quote)