Growing Pains
12 years ago, after 38 years removed from where I was known, I went back to the area where I was born, to the place where
the basic things of life to me were taught and shown. Not to the actual town, because it was mostly gone.
Not to the actual house, because it too was all gone.
But to the county seat, said to be the home of the blues.
Truth be told, I never felt at home there anyway.
It was a real challenge just finding places to play, Always being told to stay inside the box where we belonged.
As mortals grow, we learn to utilize both thermometers And thermostats so as to not only measure their surroundings
But also to set in place mechanisms to adjust those same surroundings.
So, growing up, I was boxed in, and mine was really just a place to work And stay, where childhood fun was 'shooting marbles' or playing in the hay. But even then, we had no say but still longed for a better day.
Growing up, I was well behaved, never causing trouble, Nor did I make any attempts to burst anyone bubble.
If one had dreams, they had to guard them dearly, prayerfully. Otherwise, they would turn into nightmares or get blown away with the wind.
It's been said that home is where your story begins, which sounds like a God-Send, but I say that home is a place like no other place that you wish would Never end.
In a real sense, over time, I was shielded from the pain of all those things, the good, the bad, and the ugly, that went away, and blessed by God with so many other things with which I have been warmly embraced.
110520PS
Copyright © Curtis Johnson | Year Posted 2020
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