Poem – A Childhood in Retrospect
Shifting through photos
I feel no connection, no recognition
to the person with time and years
ahead of them, looking to the future.
Pausing at one in particular in the midst of summer,
oak leaves burning with white light,
the sun slowly fading into the horizon
behind the hill at the street’s end.
What was etched into the mind
when the image became a permanent
moment tossed into a shoe box?
What was the last thought defining that moment?
Years will pass and that young face
will undergo an outward expression
of the strife, agony, depression, and final transformation
built upon the experiences, cast from the struggle.
In time what we are in this life
circles back to the foundation,
the hands pushing up from the earth,
the roots feeding a child’s growth and imagination.
Childhood is a beautiful country from which we are forever banned 😊
That is a great analogy and so true when I thought about it that way. How to get that passport?
I wish I knew, I have been looking for years , if you find out please let me know 💗💜