Not the Man I Supposed*

The mind presses upon the past
The way winds rustle prairies
Surging
Swaying
And causing to bend
Imprecise memory.

That of which I was sure
Is challenged
In the harsh scrutiny
Of reality
In the blinding glaze
Off polar snows
Shutting fast my eyes
To ancient tales
To oral traditions of my fathers.

I am not the man I supposed.
I am, rather
The sum of the fears
Of my uncles
The price of honor
And unpaid debts of parents.

I am the product
Of my own winding paths.

I am the result
Of the intervention of my past
And the invention of my truth.


* "The unexamined life is not worth living." ~ Socrates