Vital

it is tradition

It is tradition here,

pressing your ears against thin, glass walls -

and trying to hear just one laugh or sob

- to remind you that you can feel

Outward presentations can be deceiving

The head cook at your favorite restaurant may not be eating

The frail may look broken now but maybe today is their time for healing

Your neighbor who lives their life in a different shade of blue is still covered in bruises

Yes, the one who hides behind blinds -

and will only wave if you do it first

There's a pressure in exhibiting the same emotions -

the same motions, and waves - normality is a curse when you're known by name

Whether you begin your life wearing satin, jade, and gold -

or you spend your life recycling pop cans so you can have a home

Growth is promised and transformation is only honest

It is hard to escape a name, to feel disappointment or shame

- or trying to be modest and minimize your fame

Only when we enter a crowd of new people -

will we shed our skin that told us who we once were

Then we have the opportunity for sharing even if we're moving on -

but that breaks tradition and that tells your loved ones that you've simply forgot your roots and you will never grow tall

I've heard it's hard to grow orchids in Minnesota;

it's hard to grow mint near sage

Transplanting may be nerve wrecking

- but it's tradition to survive and at your own pace