June 25: Sometime After The Ceremony

The sunlight blinded my eyes
The future just as hard to see
The reading of every name
The handshake that meant I was free

With a bit of pomp and circumstance
There was nowhere left to go
Life just shifted enormously
All I could do was play "Heroes"

I was told that
It's okay to dream
About what I could be
And the places I could see
Because we're all great achievers

As that sun went down
The orange and brown
Sunlight burned away
All the accolades
From this doubting believer

The concrete path
Leading out of that field
Our names etched into that stone
Once brimming with zeal

Now ten years or so
That stone starting to fade
Erosion just doesn't take names
It indicates false progress made

I once believed
I had five years to prove
Whether life was worth living
And even if it was worth attempting
Trying to be a great achiever

But wisdom doesn't come
With a push of a button
Perspective comes with time
And context comes inline
From this older believer

Pictures show someone
Who once was me
The paper of completion
Nowhere to be seen

That march goes on
The concrete path getting longer
The sun rising and falling
And Bluejays moving onward



I am reminded whenever I do a track workout at my former high school of how time has moved on since my time there. The etched nickname is not the same as it once was, and those fellow classmates of mine, their names disappearing. One day there will just be a concrete stone that looks choppy. How fitting that our life is reflected in some concrete.