A Different Walk This Time
the first time you arrive here
they let you crawl, there is no other way
and they like it that way, they even say you are cute
in such helplessness, and then
the season come
for you to stand upright, and they like it too
because that is the way
how life should and must be lived
in maturity in
independence
in knowing how to manage life
defining and illustrating
what real walking
coping with the coming
and leaving
the constant changing of the seasons and
you learn how to dress up and comb your hair
and walk your talk and listen more
and sometimes pretend
that all is well with you
inorder not to frustrate them
because they have their
own lives
their own private quests
and hidden
sorrows too
and then the real things confront you on the face
beyond the four seasons
you go back to the ancient beginning where you are
naked where you must walk again and even crawl
if need be but
this time you do not crawl and
you are not cute anymore
you still stand upright, always trying your best
though a little bit bent now and
shaking
your eyes are all failing
and you cannot see
your feelings too are flinching as they skin you out
and even your mind
sags like a useless piece of appendix
you walk alone through all the seasons
determined, unmoved, unaffected
sometimes looking back and then moving finally forward
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poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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