other bits of blog

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

bloom

Lately, there have been funny times and sad times. Times to run through the sprinkler and scream, and times to lie down in bed and go over thoughts. Every day has been a choice and a resolution. A problem with an ending. But it is all getting mixed up into something else. And I feel like I'm playing some kind of stream-of-consciousness game. I say random words that mean nothing.
And lately, people have come up to me and said, "Hey, are you fifteen?" I'm not. Lately people have been thinking that I'm so much older and more mature than I was. I'm more mature than I used to be, but I'm still me, still a kid. And there, I'm burdening you with my troubles. But since I started, I might as well finish.
So on Sunday, Sadie and Rosie were here. And somehow, a little farmer girl found her way to the house,
along with her granny.
And somehow, a princess got into all the mess.
Then on Monday, I went to a friend's for Memorial Day. And we screamed and laughed and danced and teased. There were boys and dances and growing up. But there was dancing, and laughing, and hosing each other. There was cartwheels and spins and singing and swinging. So we grew up, but we stayed young. And that was the part I liked.
I guess my point here is that...maybe I'm not ready to grow up. I may feel twelve and say I'm twelve, but really, I'm only eleven. And I'll be twelve on Thursday. I think that's what's bringing this around. But whether I turn 20, or 12, or 82, I don't think I'm ready. Not for that responsibility.
So will you help me through this? Will you give me feedback on my stories and poems? Will you tell others about me? Will you just...help me? That's all I need.

And today is a pause. But I have to give you a poem and photos, because they are just so beautiful, that they take my mind off everything.
The flowers blow me away.
Bloom
I feel as if I’m falling
Abyss below me
Sky above me
Nothing to grab, to see
Just the endless blue
But maybe that is enough
For like a flower
It blooms
Blossoms
Blows
The sky twists and reflects
And so do I
I may be falling
But I am growing
Finding a ledge
And I think that I’m slipping
The rock is crumbling beneath my feet
So I save myself
I think of the times I will have
Older
Wiser
Stronger
But then I fall again
And remember the young
The constant laughs
Budding blossoms
As we were
But as we will never be again
So I turn to the flowers
With an endless cycle
They are never young
Nor old
And yet they are always in my heart
They will always be that ledge that I climb on as I fall
And they will always, always bloom
And grow
And change
While staying innocent and young
As I will
Help me with this. And bloom.

3 comments:

  1. You are on a path. You cannot see too far ahead, but on one side is a gently sloping meadow to which you can descend and frolic. On the other side a few hundred feet away is a low wall. Every so often there is a path breaking off to a gate in the wall. Exploring there you find other walls and streets and people going about their business. It is interesting, but a bit scary too. You have to keep your wits about you. So you return to the path to get your bearings. You are twelve years old, walking on, exploring both sides as you go.

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