The white picket fence was open today,
when she had kept it closed,
I called for her, but only my echo returned,
the meadow was empty,
my heart stood at a standstill,
where had she gone, I wondered,
the bench only bare a blanket,
in which kept her warm at night,
I know the feeling, to well,
So I walked the roads now,
feeling a cold wind,
then I saw her,
she was standing near the bar,
talking to a stranger,
that forbidden bar,
her hands were shaking,
because she was so hungry,
he saw that in her,
and offered her food,
she gladly excepted, but hardly ate,
because she had gone without it for so long,
I looked at her, and her eyes glared back,
like she was in a foggy daze,
she had starved for so long,
and she nearly fell into that strangers arms,
I knew her well, she was part of me,
she was a spitting image of my yesteryear,
He gave her food, and offered to take her in,
but that voice kept coming back,
that echo of where she had once lived,
but he was a good man,
an angel in the morning light,
there to help,
she soon found he was not there to hurt her,
and I watched,
her voice I could hear,
soft, tender and young,
the voice of a sweet tender sixteen year old,
she never cried,
I don't think she had the power to,
she was to weak,
and I watched her through the fog,
that cloud was still inbetween us,
she came back to the meadow,
and slept on the bench,
for what seemed hours,
when she finally awoke,
she handed me a token,
a part of her,
half her dreams and half her sorrows,
grief, I already had for her,
and she knew,
I was finally making headway,
for the first time,
I saw her smile,
it seems like a year since I had seen that,
and she let me hold her,
I needed to, and she needed me,
she told of her dreams,
her innocent heartbreaks,
the peace she finally felt,
because of a stranger,
the token was half of her,
and she knew I needed it,
because together we were woven into one,
she was after-all my reflection,
she was I, and I was she,
I made headway today,
wrapped her in my arms,
that child thrown to the road as trash,
do I know her,
I sure do,
I tasted her tears, as they ran aimlessly from her cheeks,
we sobbed that day,
I remember .....,
that day she grew strong,
nothing else mattered,
I was there with her,
holding her once again,
as the white picket fence was shaded by the willow,
and the wildflower danced in the wind,
she belonged to me,
and I to her,
we met with a token,
unconditional love,
she was half-way to finding a reason,
in this god-given world,
where hatred often takes love,
Life had a new meaning,
soon I knew I would see her dance,
her token, I cannot return,
because she is me,
her blood is mine,
and mine hers,
the young child in the infinity cloud,
she sits on the bench,
where solitude heartbreaks should have been,
and I kissed her,
because she was my yesteryear,
in the meadow where the wildflowers grew,
and the willow shaded her pain,
and the tiny small toad she called Prince,
sat by her feet, on the ground of mother earth,
where she will learn to overcome the wounds that lay on her heart,
and bear the many trials, on the road of life,
without her, I could not be,
but I look back because thats where it all began,
where the wildflowers dance
and the white picket fence keeps her safe!
Copyright ©
Valerie_Pearson
... [
2003-02-12 21:40:00]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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