Sticks & Stones

When we're children, I think we imagine ourselves as greater than we are. Our egocentrism prevents us from perceiving ourselves as mere and insignificant in the grand scheme of things. Indeed, a "grand scheme" doesn't even exist in a childish mind. In many ways, we are unabridged and boundless, unshackled by apprehensions, doubts, regrets, and fears of failure. A pure state of being. There is a beauty in that a child is nothing - not yet. An unadulterated "Perhaps" whose potential is for a time suspended in "becoming." In the eyes of a child lie a glister of the divine.

I believe, to be a truly happy adult human being, you must embrace your childish nature. We never really lose our childhood as we age; it continues to influence us. Those who misplace their sense of curiosity and wonder succumb to a bitter, unremarkable existence. Be a kid again!  

Who knows, maybe that is the key to eternal youth.

 
Sticks & Stones

Tired child,
All the while
Beguiled,
Put on trial
For having triumphed in taking a mile,
While testing his innocence.
Piled high
All the wilds -
Mildly unrest.
Caressed against my chest this child
Of my infinite regress.
Compressed
To the point of no return
And filed:
End of story, yet the best,
Having lost the words from the beginning.
Has this boyish dream been fetched
To be wounded in the process?
Build in me this nest
For the best.
Lying here in bed
Wondering if I'm a man
Or God.