Poem about growing up. |
Light blue mountains rise above the surrounding lands below. The mists remind me of days gone by, of times so long ago. The trees that lap upon the sides like waves upon the shore, remind me of the forest lands and happy days of yore. When I ran free under the sky, of night or of day, when all the stars were shining bright and no one else held sway. No claims upon my time were made, no lists to complete. No urgent tasks I must perform, no deadlines I must meet. The child within me runs there still in a defiant, pleasant way. Playing hookey from her books and calling me to play. She peers at me from behind a tree and does not understand why I’m trapped here with my books while she wanders the land. She calls me from my studies, my so-important tasks, bidding me to come and walk. “Why not?” she always asks. I cannot explain to satisfy. Indeed, I cannot say why it is I cannot go. Why must I stay? The child within me lives there still, a stranger to me now. She lives within the world of mists, the ever-present now. She cannot see the future and I cannot see the past. And so, I suppose, it has come to this at last. The final step that one must take, the journey evermore. The growing up of children and the last of days of yore. Yet somehow I take comfort, for I know within my heart, She will run free forever and never will we part. |