You and I, we are unique. No point in being all modest about it. Accept the miracle of it, scary as it may be. I think we are born knowing this, then forget along the way, as we are molded into other people’s dreams and pressured to conform. So, it becomes a quest, to reconnect and rediscover who you are. I will share with you under this hat, some of my most personal discoveries on this quest. Here is one. Please do not comment on this one poem. It’s sacred to me.
And did something I haven’t done in a long, long time
I said to myself:
Where are you?
Where am I?
I sat and sat, searching,
Finally, I found me
Huddled in a corner
In the crevices of my heart
Wearing rusty rollerblades
Nineteen to be exact
I miss you
I’m sorry I haven’t come to see you
Or ask how you’ve been doing
I stroke her hair, mine, short like a boy’s, fairy -like
I say: I wont demand anything from you this time
I’m sorry I’ve pushed you so hard
Can I sit with you?
Visit with you?
Please, I’m lost
can you remind me what I liked to do?
It’s a faint whisper, but with some hope
And I remember..
We loved to rollerblade, and paint in watercolors, and write, and ride horses, and sit alone on the garden swing
That was my favorite place to cry
I cry now for myself
though that childhood swing
that swing my father pushed so high,we squealed with terrified laughter
As is he
I have to go
But let’s stay in touch
I won’t be so hard on you any more
Remind me how to be me
With your wise innocence
I love you
I wid you
“Wid” is an Arabic word that means the strongest kind of love