Moving On
We were at war.
Threw stones at each other,
hurled barbed insults
across a school yard.
Walked home from school
together, but not,
together.
Teased and tormented
one another
attempting to be liked -
or not.
The battle raged,
every recess a skirmish,
lunch a logistic
seating plan,
dismissal
a “Dunkirkian” escape
to the purity of play,
the touch of “tag – you’re it”,
the subtle favoritism
of Dodge Ball,
complexity of Hop Scotch,
impossibility
of Jump Rope.
We were at war.
Engaged in the battle
of the sexes,
not knowing how to
get behind enemy lines,
how to dance,
how to ask the enemy
“Would you like to dance?”
We were growing up,
feeling the urges of our hopes
and the hopes of our urges,
“testing the water with both feet”
venturing into the unknown.
Adventurers
on a quest -
to find ourselves.
We were at war
with all that stood
before us,
unable to accept the
“status quo”,
unable to accept status
as a defining quality.
We fought “Quixote’s” windmills,
wrestled with the values
of life, of living, of things
as they were.
Each ignoring
the poet’s warning,
trying to be an island,
to achieve oneness.
Oneness, with or against,
any and all
who would take our
stones away,
leave us
as we wished to be.
Free!
to throw stones,
to hurl barbs,
across life’s schoolyard
at all that was
and wasn’t -
at who we were
and weren’t,
while wondering
how we became
who we are –
and aren’t.
9/6/2014
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