Bare Feet

I found myself inside a large dome,
And strolled through a long corridor,
The walls and ceiling were dark as night,
Until I came to a red elevator door.

Inside the lift I could see my reflection,
White dress shirt, vest and dress slacks, navy blues,
Head still shaved but I had a longer beard,
But when I looked down, I had no shoes.

On the panel there were three buttons,
Two of them white and one was red,
The two white were marked C and S,
While the third had markings I couldn’t read.

Down to the S level it was,
The elevator seemed to be pressurized,
And when the doors finally opened up,
I couldn’t believe my eyes.

There where so many of me,
I was there in all range of ages,
Young me, kids me, teens me,
Through all the different stages.

A twenty something year old me came up to me,
Looked at my bald head and said “you shaved!”
While a thirty something me came up to me,
And yelled “hey, have you misbehaved?”

Seventeen year old me came running up to me,
Frantic “Quick! Where do these files go”
And as I looked at around the entire room,
We were all filing papers like a tornado.

Fourteen year old me passes by and says hi,
“We’re filing and retrieving all these memories”,
While one year old me with cake in his (my) hands,
Holds mine triggering some many reveries.

Other me’s run around pulling pages from cabinets,
While more me’s walk by discussing moments,
Another me stands guarding some classified ones,
When I hear “those are the ones you wanted frozen”.

And though I still can’t see the walls or ceiling,
A mysterious mist flies by in the dark,
“Don’t be afraid to get your feet wet”
A familiar voice from the beyond, hark!

All of me stop for a second and stare at me,
While I’m still holding one year old me’s hand,
The office buzz returns as memories file away,
But I retrieve forgotten promises I now understand.

“Don’t go down to the lower levels” twenty year old me says,
While one year old me (still eating cake) nods in agreement,
And as my bare feet walk in the cool marble floor,
I begin to ponder on the pages of my true fulfillment.

Thirty year old me straightens my shirt collar,
“Don’t stop” a bunch of me say as if on repeat,
Ten year old me smiles and says “you look nice”
Smiling at me when he sees my bare feet…

“Put them on the grass or dig them into the sand,
Don’t be afraid because we’re sure you’ll find gold,
We are here to hear and pull the lessons you learned,
No matter how long it takes, no matter how old.”