hibernation of habitual unconsciousness

the deep hibernation of habitual unconsciousness is lifting from my spinning head. any of you that have had the good fortune of crossing an iowa highway in the early morning have visualized what is taking place in front of my chipped blue eyes, the steaming fog lifted from the surface, as if the entire world were an enormous tea kettle simmering on god's stove. i completed this metamorphosis, my wings intact, but somehow more beautiful and powerful than before. i no longer am left to encounter the thoughts of brokenness and misplacement without a steady hand, now there is no trembling inside these fingers. my heart has been gathered and mended, carefully sown that each stitch is stronger than the last, prepared for any malignant attempt to rip from the seams. this new heart has been filled with courage and fortitude, the will to face life's struggles head on, with a face to the violence of the western winds. i have reached the precipice and will survey these lands, knowing full well that with a cartographers eyes i can grasp whatever i attempt to set hold to. each day is a day i have been given by my forefathers, and each moment captured is needed only for that time, no need to savor it until it's sweetness has turned bitter, rotting between my sharpened teeth. i have emerged from the sheltered storms not unscathed, but rebuilt, manufactured for free expression and thought. i stand before you now and proclaim myself a free man. i whisper these words and i scream them also. they shall be branded into my skin that world may know not only my struggles but my successes. for no man has accomplished great things without first overcoming greater tests. i am prepared and ready for whatever tomorrow may hold. my vision has cleared, my gaze is locked, and my hands are steady. give me whatever trouble you may, for i will return it much stronger. i am ready.