As I lift the cover to my heart
And climb down each rung,
I feel the turmoil built over time.
It speaks of uncertainty of who I am.
Archetypes have formed, molding
Me, shaping my views.
They are hard to escape, and
Prevent me from knowing.
Who is the real Father?
The guy playing catch, or
The guy sacrificing for his clan?
Who is the real Husband?
The guy who walks hand in hand, or
The guy who suffers for his clan?
Who is the real son, friend, neighbor?
I am blind to these.
Who am I?
Take another step down the ladder
Within my heart.
I can’t see, just feel.
Life is giving me opportunity
To see, to believe.
But, this damn archetype
Shadows the clarity.
I know I am the son of God,
That love for me and others
Is all that is asked.
© Steven Schleupner, 2017 excludes photo