BE WHAT YOU ARE

Under the lambent truth, all you have to do is prove yourself more than a reflection, a mere projection of someone else's dreams; be what you are, the old master advised. "I'm a prose poem," said Gabe. What's a prose poem? The master didn't know. "I am," Gabe replied. Can't you be one or the other? Choose between prose and a poem? "No!" The old master pursed his lips into a very small Oh. Gabe waited. He waited a long time. At some point, however, the wait became something else. Less prosaic. There is poetry in waiting when you know what you are.