She worried that the house would catch fire
Or the light bulbs would explode
She worried that the lawn would die
Or deer would eat her flowers
She worried the chicken would go bad
Or the tomato sauce would be too salty
She worried the roof would leak
Or the window would crack
She worried about everything
So she didn’t have to worry about
anything that mattered...
She was fragile,
as all babies are fragile.
Her neck, so weak, so small
couldn’t hold her head up high.
So she, like all babies, depended on others
To give her life, to give her love.
But she grew as all children grow,
her neck grew strong.
She held her head high,
she searched for futures in hidden corners,
she discovered the history of the past in the dirt.
And so baby became a child. ...
The sun grew tired of many things
It grew tired of watching civilizations rise and fall for men who never stood for truth
It grew tired of villages destroying others over long forgotten gods
It grew tired of cities burning under the weight of an inevitable figure
The sun grew weary of seeing men squander its light...
She wonders if this was always there way forward, into the unknown. She wonders if ever misstep, every mistake lead her to this path. She can feel them all trailing behind her, whispering regrets in the falling of leaves, hiding hopeless in the holes of dark trees. She has walked this far, head forward, not looking back. She has followed a path set only by hopes and dreams and a yearning for a bet...
She wonders how lonely
He must be
This keeper of time
This relic of the past
That if he always stood watching
Or if once in the early years
He was free to wander the forming earth
Get lost in creating new tides
Wonder at the miracles being created
She wonders what it is life
Knowing that life goes on for so long
Yet alway being stuck, rooted in one place....
