if there is any fair assessment
or critical review of my life
even if it is by me in secrecy
watching in watertight theaters
rumbling in my past turbulence
or raining down tears of sorrow

I believe I will come to know
my hidden statures of strength
shaped in flowing spirits of love
are built nimbly—brick by brick
and cemented in the grey mortars
of my plunging falls and mistakes