if I come to you
wrapped in my blanket
horizontal--
seeking rest?
Or am I to come
in aerobic shoes
with my heart
racing
to catch my breath?
In the quiet
I lie
in communion
wakeful but at rest…
listening to the creaking
of the the old house;
hearing no demands,
no multiple choice tests,
no grade to make or break.
You
take me as I am
or so I hope…
having long outgrown
the schools of youth
that feed you information
and demand
that you regurgitate
their truth
to make your mark.
Here,
in the stillness--
in a moment
of restful peace…
a spark is kindled,
a pressure released
if I could only grant myself
permission
to create you
as all-encompassing
and kind,
like the simple warmth
of my blanket
gently wrapping me
against the well educated
misperceptions
of my mind.
No comments:
Post a Comment