I seldom saw myself

The wisdom comes late, and slowly

Those days were lonely

an unknowing fate, innocence

 

Little calculation, or even thought

A brief sight. Of nature

Full of warning and advice

occasional, subtle delight.  Blindness

 

The wonder drops

From fear. And being told.

The prolific rights and wrongs.

Not clear. Angry

 

Beginning to right

My eager hand. Tracing

memories and hopeful dreams

Written in sand. Ready to be swept away.

 

I heard words.

But the voices unsure. I am Uncertain

walking with careful steps

to endure. Not listening.

 

My heartbeat unfound.

In my thoughts. A miracle

a flavour of violence

I sought. Unimaginable peace.

 

Friends. Playful

Hiding games. Laughter.

What do they think of me.

Calling each other names. We don’t mean what we say.

 

Difference and sameness

The woods. Do they come to us

or we go there to explore

The questions of maybes and coulds. Answered as we run

 

Seen and not heard.

Is that all. Is that the world.

Am I invisible

I call. There is an echo