Early morning staring./
Blank phone screen. Black smooth water./
Looking for answers.
Or
Waiting for answers
My feelings have changed./
Like the sun rising o’er lakes,/
I comprehend peace.
Romantic rocker,/
reading red head on your beach:/
You’re never too old.
OR:
Romantic redhead,/
reading on your beach: Rock on!/
You’re never too old.
She says I goo her/
when I woo her. I’m cheesehead/
bred, so she melts me.
The young,
optimistic s/he,
running,
happy,
care free,
observing,
enjoying,
creative,
Withdrew.
From fear,
through a desire
for self-preservation,
and wrapped itself
deep within
the shell
that grew
and matured
and thrived
and took the blows
and the arrows
and the doubts
and the pain.
But one day
the cocooned,
energized,
insightful,
observant,
joyful
protected being,
who had grown
and been nurtured
and cherished,
realized it was time.
Time to emerge.
Time to reveal.
Time to risk.
Time to take
its rightful place
as owner
and operator
and thinker
of its soul
and mind
and destiny.
It was scary,
at first,
to show itself.
To say “Here I am,
again,
for the first time.”
But it felt the warmth of the sun
on its face.
The cool breeze blowing through its hair.
The moist mist of early morning
fog lifting.
The passion
and compassion
of love.
And it knew,
having been sheltered
and protected
and nurtured
and walled
for so long,
that free,
and fearless
and embracing
and empowered
and enjoying
and joyful
was where it belonged.
Here.
Now.
Being.