today even the sky refuses
to see that sun stands behind it;
that sun shines all around
doesn’t sky know that all he must do
is to step his Self out of sun’s way?
~
last year’s trash comes loose from street-side icebergs
i walk, careful not to get my boots wet
eyes looking down,
my Self, growing ever larger
because i refuse to see what is all around
behind me, someone chants,
something eerie, but something familiar
i listen more closely:
rain, rain, go-a-way, come-again-another-day
rain, rain, go-a-way, come-again-another-day
~
silly grown-up! have you forgotten what it was like
to be so small that surrender was no choice;
to be so small that you knew you had no control?
the little girl isn’t happy or sad,
she just is
who are you, to feel the world on your shoulders?
tell me, who are you?
the little girl isn’t worried or anxious;
she holds momma’s hand
with momma there, gloom is simply gloom
that will go away,
that may come another day
but momma will be there!
~
whose hand do you hold, silly grown-up?
saara 