Birth of a flower
When you're young, the whole world, a lifetime(!) is ahead of you...a seemingly endless expanse of time...an intriguing, mysterious enigma to be explored, discovered, enjoyed and experienced. Wonder washes over you like a gentle summer rain daily, hourly...minute by minute. Everything is new, fresh, ecstatic.
Then time & life intervene.
Things become known, explained, routine. Sadly, the mysterious slowly becomes the mundane.
You wake up one morning and the majority of your life is no longer ahead of you, but behind you, in that far off land called memory. You have no idea how it happened so suddenly, the passing of decades...not years, but decades. A new millineum is no longer new...
Your days become numbered...there's a red DEAD END sign in the blurry distance, a mere speck, but becoming closer and clearer with each passing week, hour, day...
No one gets out alive...not even you and me. xo
Before the World IntrudedReturn me to those infant years,
before I woke from sleep,
when ideas were oceans crashing,
my dreams blank shores of sand.
Transport me fast to who I was
when breath was fresh as sight,
my new parts — unfragmented —
shielded faith from unkind light.
Draw for me a figure whole, so different
from who I am. Show me now
this picture: who I was
when I began.
By Michele Rosenthal