Soft breezes whisper nothing in my ears,
Speak of the recesses of my mind
In which little grows
And some festers

The wind grows faster, wilder
Whips and pulls at the detritus in my heart
Coaxing the tar away
Freeing my breath

Until naught remains of the broiling pain
The freckled, frayed bleakness of my soul
But a sunlit shadow
And a dim memory

To unstable quiet were they born
Surrounded by danger did they grow

The powers that be had
A vision each their own

But none asked them for theirs

None asked the children

We all act differently
Knowing there is an end
Knowing time has limits
Knowing someday we run out of chances

It gives us spark
Gives us purpose
Gives us urgency
Gives us some sense we are not alone

Yet some
Act as if theirs is the only end
Act as if others will not go on
Act as if what becomes of the rest matters little

Alas for them.

Though it is messy
Though it carries stresses
Though it is both too large
And too small
Though it’ll never be perfect
Though there will be laughter and tears
Though someday you’ll leave it

Today it is home.

And with open eyes and ears
One turns to the world
And sees
And hears
And all that you knew
Changes in a moment
Like an eddying wind