Can you remember
The child that you were —
A curious and keen observer
Of everything in our world?
Can you recall
Those precious moments of joy
Before you started to pick up trauma
Instead of a toy?
The consummate helper
As your sails unfurled
Collapsed and turned bitter
When insults were hurled.
I know
Life now
Can
Feel
So
Helpless…
That you seek any escape
From those burdens you carry.
From pits and from traps
And from secrets you’d bury.
Life loses focus
When our bodies betray us.
“Fuck all this shit.
I am so over it.”
And yet.
Choices remain to us.
Or so I believe.
Choices are human.
That’s not hard to conceive.
Though the choices that open for us
Are the ones we perceive.
But fear makes us blind
To the truth of our place
To the systems that nest us
That we might embrace.
And as you seek
So shall you find
The contributions you might make
And the ties you might bind.
You cannot become
The child that you were
But you can remember
Their voice, so it’s heard.
And that can be hard
When your mind starts to race.
You must let down your guard
To grant yourself grace.
So take up their tune.
(It’s yours anyway.)
Let it renew you
And show you the way.
This is my story;
This is my song —
That the keys to becoming
Were yours all along.
Leave a comment and let me know the impact reading this had on you.
Originally published on Medium.
An Instrument for Becoming