Only that I, "Lean in,"
pure in heart, lean forward.
Let go so momentum
can compel self toward;
victories I cannot know,
a future I cannot see,
and pain along the way I'm sure,
as I press on, in pursuit of me.
I know I'll fail this task,
growth requires I must.
At times, I've toppled, recklessly
Just to stand and shake the dust.
I'll mend my tattered clothing,
clean wounds, and where I bruised.
An illustrated man with burns and scars
concealed behind bluish hue.
I'll brush blood in strokes to canvas,
her fingers slide across so well,
and I'll continue leaning forward
so I don't backslide to hell.
I've already squandered many years
trying desperately to unwind
all the tightly knotted synapses
deep inside a troubled mind.
So, I urge through execution.
Lean in to worries and doubt.
Lean in to absolution.
Lean in, and grit it out.
Lean in to healing progress.
Lean in, and take a breath.
Lean in to truly living.
Lean in, until my death.
s.p. burke is about to retire after 20 years as an intelligence analyst in the US Army. Follow him here.
Learn more about Veterans Repertory Theater here. Listen to the Savage Wonder podcast here.
Excellent!