We learn to question everything
And children just don’t do that
I made eye contact with a little girl
She mirrored all the gestures
She made the exact same faces
That I made to her
Discomfit
Rather than always moving stuff
Moving minds
Wizards always keep their promises
Or so I’ve been told and the story
Goes like this…
Once upon a time
There was a dark and hollow tree
That was so big you could
Climb in and yes in fact
You could fit three squeezing
Down the trunk brushing up
Against the wood to smell
The musty bits of earth in
Ancient musk and vetiver
A tiny pin hole light would lead
You to a wide and open room
That looked well kept and
Smelled deliciously of
Applesauce and soup
In the air the dust of cinnamon
On the floor a polished stone
Hardwood chairs carved from
The roots of which the tree
Has firmly stood and in the corner
Of the cave-like looms surroundings
There sits a long grey haired Divine
Who tells the truth about your past
And opens doors for future times
All the questions that you have
As an adult here can be asked
And the childhood you once had
If feeling free is ever-last
So find the tree deep in the woods
When you are caring much too much
In your dreams you’ll seek the
Map in which to carry on the path
Let your subconscious lead the way
And if at first you lose your step
Try again tomorrow night
Or in the middle of twilight
There is no rush to get you there
But to unleash adult despair
Would be the goal if one there was
In such a circumstance because
To feel so free as like a child
Who cares no more about the
Files, bills… and trials
You’ll find something special there
Awaits you even so if lost
Along the way, but still has always
Been inside you from the moment
You became
© GÄ
Poétique 