Who Will I Be?

[JMCKUSICK]

Who will I be, people kept asking me
As if I could magically see, what looks like eternity.

Your mind is so free, they always told me,
without sharing the recipe, for steps one, two and three.

Who would I be, by the time I'm twenty-three,
driving a cab was a dream for me, and then I became, an EMT.

What all would I see, by the time I'm thirty-three,
capturing moments with poetry, seemed important to me.

I was still young at forty-three, yet to face my mortality,
living life dangerously, these things can't happen to me.

By the time I turned fifty-three, a date with Grim Reaper and yours truly,
was cancelled suddenly, by stents implanted surgically.

I never thought I'd reach sixty-three, and it still may not come to be,
But for the first time in memory, my soul and spirit feel so free.

Should I make it to seventy-three, I hope I'll have helped many,
find their own destiny, with permission to chase it faithfully.

If by miracle, I get to eighty-three, I pray I've earned with humility,
A place in someone's heart you see, because that's where dearly I hope to be.

Love,
John Mckusick