Picture On The Mantle.... Poem by Eric Cockrell

i am not the picture
on the mantle,
not the old song,
not a fleeting memory.
i am not the name
that parks behind yours,
i am not the rent, the lights,
or the groceries.
i am not the excuse,
the curse, or the lie....
not the name of your fear,
not your morals, or your chains.
i am not the old man
sitting in the chair,
staring blankly out the window.
i am not the grey in your hair,
not the heart grown cold.
i am not the bull in the pasture,
not the magazine by the toilet.
i am not your second choice,
your last resort,
or even your final resting place...

but i am the mountain unmoved,
the tree changing with seasons,
but still rooted to the ground.
i am the fury of storm,
and the beauty of sunset....
the taste of still darkness,
the fire never quenched.
i am the fall, the struggle
that gets back up,
i am the fight against all odds.
i am the heart of angels,
the hands of demons,
i am hunger shouted and chanted.

i am a man,
made of flesh and blood.
i demand the respect
that is truth and passion.
i'll get down in the ditch,
but you have to come too!
i am the hand reaching for yours.

so love me, hate me, or close the door.
i am this moment,
trickling through the hands of time.
for if i am but wave,
you must be ocean....
if you are thunder,
i am the lightning!