Poem for Jenson Ackles

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Okay so this one is cheesy. Write a poem for Jenson Ackles or Dean Winchester. Whoever participates - by reading and/or submitting a poem can vote. This poem is not at all indicitive of my usual work. I entered it into a myspace contest but well...if you're going to comment that my poem is a bit hokey - don't bother - I know - yet I'm hoping if I put mine out there - others will feel encouraged to do the same. For Jenson the strong A soul booked passage to this world sometime around June or July 1977, about him I will attempt to rhyme. Never my storng suit, never my passion, like life, I prefer free verse, words without strict form or ration. With rhyme, for me, words come out sounding trite, devoid of true passion. These words are only slightly tongue in cheek, the intuitive truth is what I seek. After about nine months comfy transport, March 1, 1978, this spirit was delivered to this place, to take part in the true adventure of the human race. Like a black pearl chosen from a bowl of many others, Jenson,you may look like the rest of us, 2 arms, 2 legs, to one who truly knows you beyond this, surely not me - as you know them - you'll stand out from humanity's seas. Though I don't know you, I will attempt to define a life, called yours, filled like the rest of us, with hopefully not so equal measures of joy and strife-- despite the lofty height (ahem) of your esteemed position. To many, you are like the namesake of your junior high, the one who chariots the sun across the sky. As powerful as each swoon taken from one look in your eye, it is in your gentle spirit that your true greatness resides. (as I'm sure your mother will agree) Awards and accolades aside, you seem to know that, As strong and wise as one can be, true strength is often found on your knees. Photographer, writer, sports fan, actor, director producer, you can, with all the hats you wear in life, have quite an impact, be sure to remember that while in the publics eye, it is more than God who waches you; children, the young, will watch and want to follow -- to be like -- whatever you do. Life throws challenges into the wind, not to thrawt but check our very fiber, You may have found that with your Superman PJ's you were seeing red when gales knocked you over, you picked yourself and chose strength instead Destined to characters which take you where angels fear to tread -- as well as down silken paths of angelic flesh times when bodies come together and souls never truly mesh. You've threatened your soul over and over by the old myth of having your picture taken and by the thought that your eyes may never truly be opened, your spirit awakened. For there is much that is clear to you, much still fraught with murky confusion, sometimes you want to swim in shallow waters, your path takes you deeper too Places where you can't see the bottom, your faith keeps you treading water when you want to take the leap fathom the murkiness down deep. Be sure in all your leaps of faith, the midnight swims you take, sure and slow and fast and sweet, in this and all life's ups and downs winning and losing is all caught up in the web, paths of our own choosing. For all the glimpses of the soul you may find in casual conversation, and the introductions that you make of those you feel you already know, the impact of sould recognition, dark chocolate and animal crackers, there are still traffic jams, lost keys, remotes and love paths we wander lost upon, of our own choosing, winning or losing. Be sometimes you'll find your sould to be caught, in the current, as Society tries its hand at dictatorship, of media and conditioning, when you are faced with temptations, where-ever you are led, know you can choose the high road instead. Texas born, your shoes must be hard ones to fill, their path one day, angels may be honoured to tread, You've found fame and fortune, and yet still, the choice is yours not theirs, where and when you are led. It seems with your youth groups, God and your soul's state, you come off strong and - just to date. Knowing that in our own lives - and our own bed we make our own, wherever each new day may lead, whatever seeds are sown, it is our choice that ultimately dictates where we are led, in each life decision, in each tear, sigh or moan (especially the last when we make bad poetry, jokes and puns that are so not funny it makes us want to run) Right or wrong, right or left remember what doesn't kill us makes us strong.