Hounding My (His) Legend

a poem by Roger B Rueda

I am hard to go after myself these days,
admittedly.
Still I am looking
to make myself
discretely better, though.
I‘m not putting up
someone else’s realm.
Has my need for material wealth
made it tough to go
behind myself?
I know Roger B Rueda,
no matter how
the pathway
transforms itself through time.
His following
a nameless trace
that is calling him,
along the way,
beautiful things are popping
here and there.
One way or another he feels that he’s
on the right footpath,
though no one can tell it
before it happens
and, thus far, that bolt
from the blue is worth unwrapping it:
as he goes on his way,
he would understand
and get him ready
on his voyage to his tale,
his reverie.
His spirit and life
always shout at him
what they most hunger after.
I am following his tale.
I am familiar with that.
And really I can not
tell you who he is like,
how he feels.
Perhaps at some point
I will be able to.
He is filled with fervour,
dread, uncertainties, and obsessions.
But how will it end?
Will he be able to carry it out?
That’s an answer
that must be given just
before the end.
I hope to manage to enlighten you
just before the end.
His dreams are about him.
They inspire his being
and purpose in life.
He looks into his relations.
I can see much more a pattern
and a flow.
Things that made him
disenchanted
as they came to pass
and he didn’t realise
and experienced coolly,
were truly commonness
where he had to discover
and put in order
to be here in this now.
To live his tale in his way has been
not a straight way,
a side road with mounds, or dreary,
jagged, and curved,
but it has been just a grounding.
What he is doing now and he loves,
and finding himself completely,
these did not even exist
at the time of his dawn,
or 31 years ago.
So, it would have not been
likely to plan fully for his way.
When things go another way
as he expects he begins
to calm down
after some time,
trying to trust that he is led:
The more he thinks, the more
he uses his wits
rather than his kindness
and his inkling, the more lost
he becomes. When he is lost
in the dark,
he remembers
that he has the radiance he
needs inside him, and there is
always some help out there.
He only needs to ask and be open
to the signs.
He is enduring.
He knows opportunities
will present themselves if he is open to them.