When we were small

Through jungles of thick dense mirages

we quietly slip through the darkness seeking

the light of a thousand daydreams

we know lay beyond the realm of youth.

When we were small we longed for age,

to be like those we saw around us like tall trees

and beautiful willowy women who entered rooms

and silence greeted their demure smiles,

jewels dripping from arms and necks

as the music played and the dances began

we watched from behind potted plants

meager in our pajama clad selves,

uninvited to the ball.

We pretended in front of mirrors,

decorating faces with left-over hand me downs

crumbling blue shadows and dried tubes and pots-

and broken glittering necklaces with missing pearls,

we bowed and curtsied and spun with joy

yet somewhere inside we knew it was just play

the tattered gowns and the laughter we endured

on playground fields from the older girls,

we stood with our faces outstretched to the sun,

yearning to be seen

in the overgrown garden of this make believe.

When we were young we longed for more

and as we became the trees so tall

we looked with love at those still small,

remembering the good

and casting out the sad,

now we long for those softer times of quiet,

the moments of innocence before the dark clouds

of want and need and anger became

a fabric of our lives we had not asked for,

we long for that peace

of yesterday once more.

I saw this image and this is what came to mind, no fears my friends, I’m in a good place, sitting in the shade of a beautiful Florida winter? day, listening to the world move in its own special way and just being.