An Awkward Child

A mother's hand trembles as she brushes a tear from her eyes; while watching her awkward child standing all alone, forgotten. As others, in their budding self-awareness, catch glimpses as they run by, playing at their games and life. They were too young, perhaps, to appreciate that difference will often foretell brilliance, that genius sometimes hides behind shyness, and strength within softly stammered words. Instead, we often feel we must march to the same annoying drum beat, speak the same exhausted phrases, and think only empty thoughts to feel connected. While left alone, the one who's different finds contentment in tending a garden of his dreams. Perhaps he should have come to this life a little later, when humanity might have learned acceptance of those unlike themselves, and tolerance for minds greater than their own. But, for now, there'll be derision as insecurity outruns compassion in the human race. Yet, as sometimes happens, the awkward one, rejected as a playmate, is now extolled by many critics for his masterpieces. And we gaze in wonder at the loveliness of the unique.