Unsilencing my Vessel

What was reborn from that time I nearly died?
Why do you have to have MS?
Why must we tread on egg-shells around corporate crap?
Why is Israel allowed to exist at all 
while palestine and now Iran suffer beneath its hell?
Why did I have to fall inside of that hole?

I was in my peak athleticism.
I was supposed to be standing on Annapurna right now.
Instead, I may never climb again.
Why do such awful things keep happening to me?

But something did change within...
When i fell into that hole's close call.
An exterior I once built to survive 
The armour of an athlete identitiy
now shattered along with a ruptured kidney 
and a couple broken bones.
Whatever's happened to the dancer in me?
And the fearless seeker 
who sat on the roof of Africa's throne?

What if the athlete in me had to die in the hole,
So that the oracle's reborn with this voice as my microphone?

Why have i not awakened to the art i've always been?
Pretending that it's not already lying within.
Why am i still looking for the structure from my old life,
while dismissing my true destiny that's been calling me all along?

As i write these very words,
a flower petal landed in my hand, 
and to it i whisper:
I am a poet. I am poetry. 
I am ready to be witnessed 
as the oracle i am reborn to be.
and along with that the petal flew away into the wind,
carrying my wish along like we're already kin.

I'm not sure why I'm resisting me so hard,
just because this version of me didn't fit the path
my ego tried so hard for so long, to guard.
But I've just taken a look around 
My own room, the safe space I've built
with a bookshelf foundation 
and a decoration of books as beams 
like a poetic sanctuary melting beneath 
every ancient philosopher's dreams.

What if i am done being the student 
and it's time to become the master?
Nothing new needs to be done.
I only need to realise 
I have already become.

everything i was always supposed to be.
My tragedy of a life is ready to become my poetry.

What if i need to stop scribbling
and begin my own unsilencing
that i've already starting doing
unbeknownst to me?

What if i am supposed to surrender completely 
to the ADHD chaos lying deep inside of me?
What if i am supposed to use the very thing
they tried to convince me was my biggest flaw?

Those poets i bumped into for the first time,
saw in me a peer worthy of being witnessed,
I am already one of them.
How did strangers see the performer in me
before i even stepped on their stage?
What if my aura is already ahead of my identity
that i'm only limiting as something beneath me?

But i only got out of that hole's close-call
about three months ago
So surely it's justifiable for me to unpack 
my inner truth in my own timeline.

Because I am a structural engineer, 
even though i have no structure,
I know not to pour a structure's foundation
until it's earth has settled.

I didn't just have a setback.
I had a structural failure to my entire vessel,
a near collapse catastrophe,
mid reconstruction, 
fighting its way into this current trajectory.

But maybe the message wasn't supposed to just marinate within me
and burn me out insufferably.
The purpose of these awakenings is for me
to convert the rhythm into a frequency others can behold
for humanity to recognise what it truly means to be human
from a little human who has faced death in the eyes
and told it to FUCK OFF.

I am still mid-processing a near-death experience
most people will never get to see
So i'll let them wait for me to catch up to my own damn truth
while i protect this seed.

This is the biggest mountain I've never trained for.
Yet its calling my name...
While i still don't have a damn clue on what name it's calling to.

Inspired here by Eminem 
to spit the hardest truths,
to seize the mic of my own life.

Inspired there by Frida Kahlo
her Wounded Deer, her Cropped hair,
scars reborn as timeless signatures. 

Inspired everywhere by Gangubai
her roar unsilencing of not just herself,
but all women, the wounded, 
the underdogs, and the forgotten.

And so i rise 
A truth-dropper in motion.
A poet who may give you the words to your unspeakable.
Unpolished. Unafraid.
Epiphanies erupting like thunder that refuses to stay quiet.

My art is not the dance itself.
Nor the rare clouds i capture.
My art is how i draw out epiphanies from every motion - 
and turn them into poetic justice
Epiphanies In Motion.

This is my way to catch up to my own truths,
by unleashing the voice of my soul.
Each climb, each dance, each epiphany,
is another layer of my mind and body aligning
to the soul that already arrived at the summit.