When young we dreamed
we dreamed of things
and places and people
we wished to have
and go and be
We played with toys
that somehow filled time
and fit with fun
And then we grew
out of our toys
and into our lives
replacing things and places
and people with well
things and places and
people feeling comfortable there
But as those same
began to lose stuffing
and adventure and desire
we searched for our
own youth in toys
New things and places
and people that distract
divide and ultimately destroy
Toys are best left
in hands of children
for a child’s mind
is one of innocence
and glee and giddiness
whereas the adult mind
is full of corruption
and chaos and compromise
Not a very promising
place for a toy
Category: Affection
Ovation
The realization and subsequent
acceptance that I have
in fact become the
thing I dreamed about
is both startling and
relieving on both hands
the left being uhoh
now what and the
right being mmm at
long last so what
comes next applause does
An ovation for what’s
ended and one for
what’s about to begin
See
I maintain that what
we see is the
result of what we
wish and what we
wish is what we
want and what we
want is what our
hearts see so what
we have has always
been what our hearts
desire if you want
change then have the
courage to see it
for neither the eyes
nor the heart are
blind one doesn’t need
eyesight to possess vision
Emergence
The moving from one
thing to another is
hardly cause for celebration
As the caterpillar moves
away from itself and
into something new and
as the summer gives
way to fall and
as the wood turns
to ash its important
to remember that what
once was still is
Still is is all
that we ever have
for everything now was
borne from something else
previously something else borne
from something else borrowed
broken or bruised we
all are the result
of what came before
Raindrops
When it rains here
I’m reminded of the
broken hearts in Heaven
Each raindrop that lands
on my dry sleeve
makes me solemnly remember
all the precious souls
that meant so much
to me passing far
far too soon and
each raindrop signifies to
me the number of
times that I forgot
to admit to myself
and to them that
I did love them
Maybe one day rain
will just be rain
not sorrow from above
HARLAN DIDRICKSON 