Secret Lives

What would you be, if you could be anything at all?
Santa Claus, or Martha Stewart, or Princess Grace?
Which persona would you adopt?
Neglecting to consider the drawbacks of the life as it is to be lived.

How would you live, if you could live any way at all?
Harvesting herbs from your garden on the window sill
And fashioning your character after the Calcutta example
To make yourself into the person others wish to be.

Maybe you would wish to be nothing,
Just to sit by the ocean all day, until the sounds of the waves
Break into your head and overwhelm the fragile thoughts
And you sink into the sand and disappear at the bottom of the hour glass

Maybe you would wish something unexpected,
And just to wish that wish causes trepidation
Because if anyone would know, they would scoff
And say , “no, that dream isn’t for you.”

Is it a matter of happenstance, the ways in which we are?
Or too many telling us too much, until we don’t know
That we could train ourselves to be the selves
That we see elsewhere and wish we would be?

What would you be, if you could be anything at all?
And never have to worry about the limits of your abilities
Or the perceptions of others and
the reception of your time and talent by the rest of the world.

If you could get out of the sand and begin again,
Paying better attention to the classes
And remembering the lessons that brought you to the decision
To follow the life path, what path would you take?

Anything at all, the mathematic science type,
researching reasons about the universe?
Or the dancer performing the truths that science can’t see,
Moving before the mirrors on the wall?

And if you would think it, would you say it?
And then say it out loud to the world “I wish to be___!”
Make the changes you’re thinking, no need to yell,
Just prove to yourself that you can be anything.

It’s just a matter of doing, why isn’t it done?
No need to start again, just to do it every day,
Until there is no wondering what you would be
Because you already are the wish you wished