Listening to every heart
Back Again Not
Simple ways, trouble-free times
unadorned as the black/white mime
beckoning ways, calling me back
my troubles yet to be unpacked.
Comforting life, time without care
dreaming me hither, do I dare
look around at that time, and wish to be
a little one, a child of three?
At that age, just surviving
loving, laughing, simply thriving
on all of nature’s whimsical ways
old seasoned age still at bay.
A blonde-haired innocent
with fresh eyes of green
everything to be spent
everything to be seen.
No, I guess I’d much rather be
here when my grandchild turns just three
and watch with him all the delights
and imagine again all the sights
that he sees now, for the first time
like an unadorned black/white mime
I’ll help, be there, his guiding light,
and tuck him in, safe at night.
1 September, 1999
Words will always express our feelings true. ~~~ KRJ
Look, then, into thine heart, and write ~~~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow