It’s a cold morning in Tokyo.
I’m running on the track at the park near my house.
I have freedom to move and breathe,
All I want or need, gives me
Peace in my heart and soul.
Sometimes we need to shake things up, put ourselves in a
New environment to break free from the past.
Just put ourselves there, don’t think.
I needed to run. To stop thinking, and
Break from this cycle.
Tears came to my eyes as I pushed hard on my last lap,
Not caring anymore about the rules,
About the past, about what I feel in my body,
Only trusting what I feel in my heart, and what I know is
I’m okay, and the future is bright.
It’s a blessing just to be alive.
I won’t just turn over,
Give up on myself and the life I dream of living.
I’ll push, I’ll run, again and again I will get up and go.
My mind will tell me to be easy.
But it’s not in my blood, not who I am,
I’m on earth to live with every fiber of my being,
And I’ll never settle.
We must fight
For our sanity, our
Peace.
Our light.
If we don’t, nobody will.

It’s a cold night in Tokyo.
I’m on my way home from therapy, with my
Black coat draped over my shoulders, as the
City lights turn on and the night comes alive.
I’ve chosen to be here.
I choose to be here.
My back is better than it’s ever been,
Listening to Anderson .Pack as I’m
Passing izakayas,
Faces flashing by as they open up their shops,
Some formal dining white smocks, dim lights,
Others carry beer steins three at a time. I only catch a glimpse,
A brief slice of life, and maybe they see me
In my black coat walking by,
Nothing but the wisp of my hair or the
Sparkle in my eye;
We see only a moment of each other
And spend an eternity with ourselves.
I’m here.
It was once a dream,
Now a reality I gotta remind myself
I’m living; and it’ll soon be gone, and that’s okay.
I’m ready.
For what?
For life.
Doesn’t mean more than just
Opening my eyes
And not letting the miracle of
Each day pass me by like the faces in the shops;
Winter solstice, another year gone,
My beard’s grown longer I’m still singing
My song,
Twilight, golden leaves scattered on the ground,
Feeling life’s richness, this
Moment in time is fleeting, too,
How autumn came and went, the season I love most.
I’m getting older.
Not exactly the kid I was.
It’s wild to feel ourselves growing, changing, evolving —
Beautiful, really.
I stop to read a plaque about a woodblock print
Depicting this area in Tokyo, a hill.
Not so far gone, people coming and going,
But I’ll stop to admire the bare
Winter trees.