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As an orchid in his life,
a reflection from his strife...
He's a flower in his way
and he would say...

I am living as a poem...
choosing freedom on my own,
and the mask of God would 
speak...
Here is a clue!

From a message he would live
an adventure that would give...
special meaning to his life...
as he went on...

This would be an evolution,
not for him a revolution...
and he danced it all inside...
out in the rain.

All he needed was a room
and a time of day to bloom...
Such a place he didn't know
where to begin.

He brought forth within a day..
what became all in his way...
His experience would say...
Life is a poem!

And he found a sacred place...
he would use it for his space...
find a meaning for his life...
but there was strife!

Pain and suffering he'd achieve,
life with horror_he would leave
all he needed to get back...
was 'on the track.'

It had been there all the while
but his life became a trial...
Could he see or would he 
choose...
another path?

For a life he should be living,
was the one when he was 
giving...
He was living out a dream...
that was his own...

and he became a flower...
in the rain.

All the people in his field
opened doors for him to yield,
a refreshment for his bliss...
but he would miss!

So he followed just a thread...
to a path where he was led...
in a journey that for him,
required a death!

A renewal from his past...
something sacred that would 
last...
One condition for another
he would find...

There were trials and 
revelations...
for a while an incubation.
He found more about himself
as he went on...

Such a dragon he would slay...
no longer bound to his own 
way.to
Something  greater he would 
give
in all his bliss...

From a mystery in life,
he found value in his strife...
and he became a flower...
in the rain.

July 27th, 2012
from The Power of Myth by 
Joseph Campbell
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