by Steven Craig
I was pondering you.
There is something about you ... different from many women. Thus, I ponder.
Like a submarine with its sonar, searching, listening, determining, describing.
I am pondering the few things I know about you.
There is this nebula that is there, filled with what makes you be the person you are.
It is in the details that the truth lies.
It is a joy to ponder such
You have one of those creative minds that has so much room to expand, and already, so much to offer.
Talents are precious.
Being sensitive is both a blessing and a curse.
You fear rejection deeply
You love intensely
You care and at the same time, will fight
What you seek, is never defined.
You do not like such limits
If there is a new frontier, you are at its edge
There is not a fear to explore,
but there is a fear to fail.
You hide failures
But relive them in hope of being better the next time
In your creativity, you expand yourself daily
The ordinary day in not yours
You work only to make tomorrow occur
And your tomorrow is of great value to you
There, you invest your emotions
And in the strength you have, you pour it into that day.
You have grown older
But stay within your childish hopes of being happy
This is not a bad thing
It is wonderful to want that
Too many grow too old too soon
And stop everything
They stop dreaming
They stop hoping
They stop loving
The child in us is invaluable
It says that nothing is impossible.
and then, leads us the emotional hand to do it.
The world says we have accomplished much
in our lives...
But it was our youth that really did it
It is the smiling, happy you that does all this.
That wonderful little girl competes with her growing up.
Growing up says face reality
But you say, I have yet to discover it all, so out of my way.
Thus, I ponder you.
Such pondering are a happy time.
You seek one who will touch you in a special way
That kind of touch, is a hard thing to find.
You must let down your walls that have been carefully crafted for that.
To remove barriers, is very hard.
you get used to them after a while.
The protection feels better than the risks.
A sensitive person can be hurt too quickly
The unknowing that you meet can do this without intent.
But still, it would be too late for your feelings.
TO let someone touch you, you must face that risk
Perhaps, over and over
Many have not the will
You are as naked as the day you were born...
You are yourself
There is something that drives you.
A freedom you seek.
You write, for the same reasons I do... to release feelings
Written words carry much.
Most everyone who will read them will not observe the emotions within them
And I will tell you a little truth...
Writers, like all true artists, are tormented by some great gift...
and unable to sleep...
and there is so much to say...
and so little time....
and so very few words.
I see that you are a treasure...
I do well when standing before an open door.
I care not that I do not know everything.
It is in the finding that my life exists.
For those that wish to read the last page of the book first, then let them read on.
For me, I write the book as I go.....
I have never been anyones solution it would seem...
thus, I travel in the world as I do.
and that confuses most I meet
I feel that flux, that upward marching curve of life...
Do you know what experience is?
It is the name that everyone gives to their mistakes.
I am experienced!!! :-)
I wear that badge of honor.
Of having been there to do what must be done, when there was no other way
In the wind and the reeds, I have flown the night and starry skies...
in search of that elusive dream I share with few others
Posted on 06/24/2006
Copyright © 2020 Steven Craig
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by A. Paige White on 07/08/06 at 11:45 PM|
Wow! The first part of this, I really thought you were talking to me! hehehe... (Not that I'm an egomaniac or anything, not daily anyway, just Every other Tuesday and Thursday of the month) I really enjoyed this.