Wednesday, March 09, 2005

A breeze blows in the night.
With it, comes the inevitable
future.
It smells of childhood memories past:
crayola crayons, glue from the teacher's desk.
It carries with it,
the wisdom of life, and
blows over us while
we sleep through the night.
We close our eyes a child,
and awake an aged face.
We inhale the cool breeze of life,
but we cannot let it age our spirit.
We must remain always a child.

1 comment:

PoeticMermaid said...

"We close our eyes a child,
and awake an aged face"

In the blink of an eye, of time, years tiptoed passed me when we I not looking. I think I feel a poem coming...you inspired it!

I am a child again. This one reminds me of one I wrote earlier on my blog titled "Wonder". Brilliant, Adrian!

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