Poetry: Not a one

Not a One 

by Mark Nepo

A funny thing happened on my way
to being awake. I outgrew all my masks.
Not a one fit. Not the one I called my
past. Not the one I called my dream.
Not the one I wore when sad. Or the
one I wore when trying to be happy.

I saved them all like favorite shirts
I thought would fit when I became
myself again. But that was a mask, too.

Then, just the other day, I was more
present than lost, and had to put down
the mask I called my story.

And today, a gust of light filled my face.
I felt it on my skin and in my soul.
Now, anything is possible.