My Poem “The Hero’s Journey”

It occurs to me that since I
first began writing poetry
that I have been on my own version
of “The Hero’s Journey”…
perhaps I have been on
my “Hero’s Journey” since I was a child –
or, more likely, like most people
who find themselves called
to seek out adventure,
my childhood was just the preparation
that I needed to learn and to grow
before I knew what I had to do,
why I had to do it,
and where I needed to go.

My call to adventure was one of love –
and when I discovered the book
that I would come to consider
as the poetic version of a “holy text”
that was when I felt like I crossed
a threshold into a new world
where I could see patterns
and poetry all around me
and I felt truly transformed
and able to walk through doors
that I was unable to do so before.

When I first started upon
the path of the poet,
and wearing the guise
of the Poet of the Sphere,
along the way I found myself
drawn to people and inspired
by mentors and muses
who opened my eyes to things
that challenged the way
that I perceived the world around me
and I was tempted down dead ends
that would ultimately lead me to a downfall.

After my fall I found myself
within a dark and deep abyss
of my own making –
however, eventually, I was able
to pick myself up off the ground
and like the embodiment of
a mythological phoenix
rising from a fire
I felt as if I had been reborn,
and yet again I found myself
walking down a path of transformation
in order to find myself,
which was followed by
moments of revelation
that lead me to atone
for the actions that I had taken
that had lead me to emotional ruin.

Over time I was given the gift
of love from a goddess
and I was forgiven, and then I returned
from the underworld of the unknown
to the land of light where I would
rekindle the love that gives
meaning to everything that I do –
and so the cycle began again,
and again – however each time always
distinctly different in some way –
and after every new revolution
was completed I always found myself
sitting down, alone, writing,
contemplating and attempting
to interpret in verse the revelations
and the phases that combine
to make the tapestry of
my own version of
“The Hero’s Journey”.

My Poem ‘Thirteen o’clock’

The clock has struck one too many times,
it is now thirteen o’clock,
there is a splinter in my mind,
time itself has stopped,
the past is a fantasy,
the future is an open and wide new country,
reality is broken,
the mirror of reflection has shattered,
I feel like I have awoken
and I am having to call into question
what truly matters.

There is an old riddle
about what you should do
if a clock strikes thirteen,
and the answer to that riddle
is to “get a new clock”;
there are many times in a person’s life
when they have to stand and stop,
look back, look forward,
not knowing where to go and where to turn,
as if in a state of shock;
revelations of ourselves
that occur to us should not be feared,
but they must be questioned;
mistakes are not always a bad thing –
sometimes they can be vital lessons.

There is a legend that says
that if a man hears a clock strike
thirteen times he can save his own life
or someone else’s;
I believe that the thirteenth strike
is when the true picture
of how the world truly is can be seen
by an instant amalgamation
of the fragmented pieces.

Today, right now, for me,
it is thirteen o’clock;
as I remember the road that I have walked and my path,
a shadow shrouds the events of my past as I look back;
it occurs to me that I have been here before,
and that perhaps the thirteenth strike
is the life I have been living within
every second for years;
time and life are like a time-piece,
and they can only function correctly
when going in the right direction –
and for every ‘tick’ there must follow a ‘tock’;
the spin and the orbit of the Earth around the sun
is constant, and I realize that I too
must keep my momentum going and I must
never contently stop.
There is only one way
to know true happiness:
to break free, however you can,
from the everlasting time
of thirteen o’clock.