Such a gift is youth – silvers stars and bows, jingle-jangle wishes… Seldom opened – shame and insecurity casting doubt, despair Shall we try again,
Even in the waning times – memories of youth fading – there are traces of a personality, hints of the contours of a life well-sculpted,
Rooted in the earth, ever reaching for the sky – speaking nature’s truth.
Light fades, as do I – with age comes redundancy, moving with shadows, safety in darkness – wisdom in obscurity.
Get back to work! Bravado punches, but my pick up is shelved – would love to wheel out of here and take flight – and