Sestina of Self

I am the center of raw and wild feelings. Born from an ancient spirit of infant and child. Falling back in a womb of darkness, myself I discover. Hiding in an egg, I hear a whisper. My shell is touched by a promise in the wind's soughing. Infinite breath of wind caresses, I, who am little. I am conscious of little. A time before definition or feelings. Warm, wild wind soughs. Motion stirs the blueprint of a child. God in every breath, every whisper. Take form and discover. A bud must open in order to discover. Hesitation and fear cry out from a bud so little. Inside a chameleon wears it's feelings. Fright filters through the pores of a child. Leaf and skin shiver in a dark wind's soughing. The angelic songs of a river soughs. Life's song for us to discover. Along the riverbank runs the child. Of the future she knows little. Reflecting in water a spectrum of feelings. Their sound is a scream, a laugh, a cry and a whisper. As I grow the acceptable sound is a whisper. My tears often mix with a shower's soughing. Bodies aren't meant to cover feelings. They should be naked dancers that discover. Their steps are big and little. Dance with the flow trusting child. As I grow older, in my soul lives the child. My heart is the room where she shouts and whispers. It's a never-land where she will always be little. Hope sings in a tear-river's soughing With care and love we'll learn to discover. We are courageous explorers of feelings. The child, her voice a prayerful wind's soughing. A soft reminding whisper not to fear discovery. Oh little love I am with you always, experiencing together our feelings.