You could be a great book,
not the scriptures
that you do not read
but listen to too receive
imaginary blessings
Of abstract relief,

but in that time worn skin
under those arched eyebrows
there is a story brewing
written by doing
explored in the living
moment to moment.

The text is irrelevant
cause it will never stay in print
only be impressed
upon the breathes
of the ones you know.

It may
change and fade,
or change and grow.

The truth of flesh,

The warmth of touch,

The smell of sweat,

The sound of wet grass
shuffling beneath
cold wet feet,

The poetry of fun

The prose of those
whom we embrace
and others we fail to face,

The grief of loss,

Tendered to experience
So all can appreciate
the wisdom gained
from your mistakes

You can pass it down
in fragments
in whispers
out order
in facts or partial truths.
Because the best story is
you.