THE HIDDEN GROWTH [RRL]

In memory of Madison White (1998 - 2024)

“A heart and a mind. What

An enigma”! said the clown.

A young heart, even more so.

“Blind eyes blaze like meteors,”

The poet raged, halted half-way through.

Glued to a lonesome brick wall

A bunch of hopes between

Dream and wake-up calls:

That’s what we are,

Short-sighted heart.

Fraternal fingers carved a cameo

For a torn woman, far too young.

Breathless awe; in a blink,

The tittle-tattle of remorse.

What we did not see.

What edginess failed to caress.

What we all chose not to feel.

What we all happened not to hear.

What jilted patience could not accept.

The air the lungs rejected.

What we all knew but ignored.

What a sobbing anger hinted,

Without the overdue mercy.

The trippy tissue of lies.

Behind the wordly nays and nods,

The deep blue sea stares, aware

Of a no personal space-time.

The sighs of a stormy soul’s foliage

Would keep shaking, but never prevail.

Neither “me” nor “you.”

A “just us,” perhaps.

Breathless, breathless,

The tough young heart knows

Nothing ‘bout the hidden growth.

Life is like itchy toes,

Either dancing or aching.

Over the rainbow, instead,

Unassumingly minded.

Find your peace, young heart.

“Rest in peace” means “insight.”

Your own; never yours, tough.