06 October 2015


Now old, I remember childlike wonder
at everything that tried to delight me once—
like the color purple, yes !  
It took deep sleep—
the adolescent-beauty kind—to wipe
out paradox with 
polar opposites
like male and female, 
weed and flower, 
young and old.  

Inside a voice whispers the truth
wordlessly and I feel my youth alive
like seeds curled up within a dying bloom.
Ah!  There you are!  
You were right, you know!
I smile at she who 
waited for me to wake up, 
reversing the kiss of lore 
that pulled the wool over my eyes.  

Alright, I think.  
I needed time
to earn a living, 
simplify the rules
and multi-task achievements 
others benefited from 
before reawakening
with readiness to love 
the larger  world.

Copyright © 2015  S.L.Chast


Sherry Blue Sky said...

You know how these words resonate with me, my friend. I love the photo, the child of wonder, and that very cool farmhouse peeping behind her.......so cool that the Wise She within waits patiently through our busy Doing years for us to return to her at the time of our life when wonders abound, and each small thing is once again a miracle.

Rosemary Nissen-Wade said...

Just beautiful! I feel more alive for reading this poem. And Sherry's comment is the perfect response.

Anjum Wasim Dar said...

beautifully expressed,creates nostalgia,dramatic imagery in 'seeds curled up' and the climax of 'reawakening' reflects a life time journey

Loredana Donovan said...

What a pretty picture of you with the farm behind you, such a nostalgic piece seen through childhood eyes and wonder.