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Friday, April 13, 2012

Two Hundred and Thirteen

The rooms of my mind harbor
the memories of my life.

Door upon door to my left
to my right,
some weathered,
darkened with age,
cob webs adorn the corners.

Others new,
fresh with drying paint.

Many are locked
and how to open them
eludes me,
though not all
are aged
that are forgotten.

Aikido practice has wrought
it's changes on me
at a much deeper level
than memory.

For as long as I
can step on the mat
and move,
there is no need
for me to remember
what I have learned,
for I am
a product of that learning.

Aikido is growth
and change
and speaks
to each individual differently.