In the depths of my heart
a child wells up in deep sorrow
It knows not where to rest its head
Worn down by years of walking and pricking
by this world..
And as the drops labor down the corner of
his eyes, he pauses,
takes a distant look,
and wonders, at the journey
taken thus far..
Was it worth it? - is not a question
he asks, he is sure, it was..
rather, he scrambles to pause
and pet the child with a lullaby..
True journeys are taken
without knowing where they will end
who we will morph into
how the hearts will contend with the pricks and battles
Instead in the joy, that tomorrow..
Looking back,
Into the mirror of life,
One can still see the child crying..
In slow, protected, isolated tears..
Down the depths of an old man's heart.