Reflections

January 2, 2010,

The holidays have come to an end. It's sad to see them gone and yet the silence gives a calm relief and time to ponder some. I got a gift, a special book "Reflections" is the name. The author gives to writing on the merit of the game. It's the game of life and how we all do actually share some fame. Our style, although it different be, has a similar refrain. I heard myself saying as I read; I know that line, been there, did that, I said those words, hooray.

Tonight I went to see a movie by myself. The room was crowded and seats were scarce. Couples, families, strangers all around. I was determined not to leave. I can do this I said. It will be, OK. I don't need someone's hand. The sky won't fall and the earth won't cave if I plant my body next to one. I laughed and cried.. totally enjoyed the scenes.

It's strange an experience to take your place and function as a one. For many this issue is not a thought, for some a grave exchange.

As the movie went on, I heard a message while sitting in my seat. I am the master of my soul. I need to find my beat.

We all make music. We beat our drums. At times, we're in a band. The solace of the individual demands we make a stand. But, what of those who never learned to make their music sweet, who followed, copied, or stole in part some other's pounding feet? How does the child who held so tight to hands or legs so dear, make way for new when years of old have furrowed graven fears?

While driving home, I started to cry while saying I know not why.

At that moment, I mourned for this little child. A child that got lost in an adult maze but gave, I know not how.

There was a life of opportunity, of talent, and success. But few gave the slightest chance to this child of mostly less. Should of, could of, would of are words of ignorance and hate. Be gone, get lost, how dare you show your face. How does one console the loss of their youth or look beyond disgrace?

Then fight as you might to ignore the maze. Lift up your chin and stretch out a grin cause an adult has a different gaze. Onward we plow like a cow in a crowd making milk and cheese out of grass. And Heaven help should we stop for awhile and sit on our big fat a.....

At some time without rhyme, the child within reaches out. It looks for a friendly hand. Is there someone out there who will walk with the child and comfort its needs on demand? The hands are extended but the child is apprehensive cause the adult expects to repair. A quick fix of leather, a hot iron-on for weather, but to the heart it cannot adhere.

Caring is hard cause the loss can't be fixed in spite of those raising the bar. The heart and the mind have a connection combined and "I Love You" has limited par. Will they succeed to convince the child over time that her value has weathered the brine.

Perhaps, one would hope that the child will grow up to believe in those whom she calls her friends.