Aging

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Tiny hands snatch at a face
While eyes spin, dart; glance
Questions arise, a smile a laugh,
Weeping. So many things to cry over,
Lying down, so tired, so sleepy, watching.
Weeping. The World is so big and so new'

Small hands reach for the sink
While toes stretch to help, 'why can't I reach it?'
Dreams materialize, smiling, wishing, believing.
Weeping. Big things to cry over, 'why can't I have this?'
Sitting down, drowsy, but awake and watching and learning.
Sniffling. The World is so huge, 'I want to see it! I can see it, why can't I?'

Young hands clutch a toy
While a high voice speaks excitedly, so full of wonder, of curiosity.
Dreams. Dreamer. Dreaming; sometimes smiling, sometimes frowning, still believing.
Weeping. Needy things to cry over, I should have this! I want this! Can I please have it?
Leaning, against a parent, tired but not ready to admit it; rubbing eyes and yawning secretly.
Red eyed. Our World is so massive; I want to see it all! I can see it all right? Im going to one day!

Stronger hands hold the certificate
While a proud voice shouts, fists, like pistons, pump into the air and the young man strides down the stairs
Dreams, its time to chase them, how? I don't know if this is what I want. What do I want to be? Who am I?
Weeping. Important things to cry over, I loved her, and her, and now her, im not good enough, but am I trying?
Standing, for what I believe in, or is it what I think I believe in? I want to stand, to make a difference in the World.

Strong hands held the child up
While one hand strokes the child's head. 'Because you're not big yet, but you just wait and you'll be as big as me, haha!'
Dreams lay dormant, they rest with wakeful ambitions. I can't do that, Im crazy if I think I can. 'Because I said no.'
Weeping. Those were selfish things to cry over, selfish and foolish. Now I recognize what things to cry over, and I do.
Pacing, so much to do, so many responsibilities. 'Because you can't okay? Sorry.' Stress is killing me, it's exhausting.

Shaken hands hold the cup
While wrinkled lips sip the coffee, and glazed eyes read papers and tired legs sit down for earned rest
Dreams are in the past, the past is now subject, recollections are shared before fading from memory
Weeping. Soft tears doge the silky lines in the face and roll slowly and cautiously over true value.
Sitting, relaxing, resting, reading, ready for the worlds gifts without witnessing any of them

Weak hands sign the paper, sons and daughters sob; speak
While the cold machines operate and moan blankly
Dreams are everywhere, is this all a dream?
Weeping. Was I important, still I weep.
Laying, looking into the next world.
Gone, it had just begun, it had just begun.





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