I celebrate myself,
Though not the one always seen,
Hidden and left behind, the black encroaches the eyes.
The wind of the beings hit the skin in a cold rush that makes the hairs on the neck stand


up,
Intoxicated with the smell of impatience, the human animals stampede as the ground

shakes.
Blinders on a horse, focus toward the future and the meaning of what is in front of us.
However, lurking in the peripheral vision stands the moment.

Air underneath as the flight commences, the mind rests in peace from the day’s worries

and the concerns of what has yet to happen.
But what is peaceful if not the mind when it has worked its term?
The wind embracing is not enough.
Nature is never free,
Once in a lifetime the code is deciphered of what it means to be.

Voices of the forgotten keep memories from drowning,
Voices of the trees keep children from growing up,
Voices of the innocent scream from accusation.
Voices of the brethren, stay afloat deep within the source of thought.

The waves of sound embrace the eardrums and hold the head close.
Fear of being left behind keeps the mind agile as though it were young again.
A person can never truly be forgotten if kept dancing in the thoughts.
Though it’s hard to see when in front of you, these beings are alive and well in the

memories and the thoughts of emotion’s past.

Traveling through time and space, the brain holds the thoughts close in 3-d.
More powerful than any camera, the captured moments stand alone.
Holding inside the moments, when those with strong beliefs had spoken, seen as

criminals, not heroes.

But these great heroes stood alone, dark blankets over their thoughts, unseen until their

day of greatness.
Celebration of accomplishments that have yet to be seen,
But these great heroes once were the ones in the moment, in the dark.
And though you may not understand, these reasons that you see,
These great heroes were the ones, who stood alone like me.