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Poem
These are the times you wish
you could pack it all up and be a kid again:
Take me away from the Now
and into the Then

(that's where I wish to descend)

Back when it was all so crystal clear-
just one emotion to steer the gears,
whether wafflewonder days
or weepywillow nights

(no nuance, no twilight)

Just perfect joys and poignant fears.
Happiness like butterflies-in-sunshine,
hopscotch-in-the-rain;
sadness a gray cloud to shut out the world

(the dust getting blown away, like autumn leaves,
from Monopoly)

The world was something to See.
Yourself someone to Be.
From the moment the eye closed
to the instant it opened...

... resurrection.

The monsters were beneath the bed, or in the closet--
(never once hiding in our reflection)
No possessions to speak of or concern us,
but we had Gold in our laugh,
a Sharpness to our gaze,
and a Sureness to our step,
from one emotion to the next
with no discernible causation.

"I am HERE!" shouted the feeling
without hesitation

(this, of course, the norm
before they gathered in committees
to make a sensible decision)

We were Fireflies--

sometimes on,
sometimes off ... but we always BURNED.

Didn't care a lick about the darkness
that grew weary of our light;
because we said what we meant
and meant what we said

(didn't hide from the Truth--
we were already free

to be Me,
to be You)

But the years soon passed as they so often do.
The adrenaline rush to adulthood finally came,
I can see it peak over the horizon

(...but I'm not Roller-coaster Ready...)

Yet here I descend into that maelstrom
where the colors twist and blur with every turn, jolting us here, jolting us

      there

into that rickety reality,
reminding us our mortality

(Death just sitting there smiling      that ancient fear)

We are all of us, strapped to the cart,
with nothing but our beating hearts.
And no one knows where it's going, but we're here.
Arms raised high until we die

(at least that's what my intuition is showing)

--

I now wave to the school bus
filled with adults-in-waiting
wishing I didn't know what I know

(someday soon,
perchance tomorrow, perchance the next,
that sunflower certainty
is sure to go)

"You're all too young
to not take in the sun.
Don't shed a tear,
enjoy it while it's here."
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