I, Icon

I rise daily from troubled sleep attempting to make sense of imagery. I magination inside me peeks, anxiety occupies blanks with grief C onscious wars with angry speech, again I decide to rationalize. O nward, up, fight - ours is not to reason why ours is but to do or die; N ever give up, never give in- decide what's right, begin again. I nward look and find your truth, outward search to find your own truth I f man or woman was not meant to grow and change we'd die unclaimed. C onsider this my icon's face, an aged woman, bathed in grace O nly be kind, its all she asks, to each other; it's the right path. N ow you know my ICON; be strong, be kind, and carry on. 4/19/15