Those Guts in the Gut

Those Guts in the Gut

I ask myself one day:
Where are your guts, the ones you had yesterday?
Did you lose them along the way?
Or tuck them away, preserved for another day?
Or worse still, did you think you never had them?

No, that cannot be—
Guts are the visa to enter this Earth.

Then came a voice from beyond,
“Oh, is that what you think, daughter?”
Perplexed, I looked around—
“Where did that sound come from?”

Even as I wondered, the voice rang clear:
“Guts did not bring you here, but they will keep you here.
Your visa was the bond you signed, a pledge written bold:
Do not forget your true self.
For if you do, be ready to lose yourself
In the labyrinth of good and evil.

Read the terms and conditions—
Fine print beneath your signature:

As you enter life, you will be stripped of remembrance,
Tossed upon its waves—ups and downs pulling you under.
But hold tight to your core, and you will reach the shore.
Remember the role, if not the real—
And play it wisely, dear entrant.

If you do, you will evolve,
A sure return on your investment.
Otherwise, brace yourself for a dead investment.

Haha. So, who played their role well?
The crafty underwriter—or you?
If you want the last laugh, read between the lines.
Plunge into life with fire in your belly,
Backed by the wisdom of the mind.

And when you enter the grind,
Does it matter if you’re the grinder or the ground?
Does it matter if you’re grain or stone?
What matters is—hold on.

Hold on, and you will see the reason.
Hold on, and you will season.
Accept, and you will decipher the hidden,
Gaining an edge over the underwritten.

The seasons will shift as you near the last lap,
A sure win in sight.
And as you leave Mother Earth behind,
Grace will lift you toward the heavens.