Looking Back

It was a three year-old’s eyes through which I first saw you. I noticed myself as we two looked back. Why was I, I’d wondered, the only one asking why. Then I saw you, dancing with the what, not caring for the why. You were, weren’t you. You, seeing me struggle with what words, spoke to me the only way you could. Silently. I’ve grown old and ill from asking why, I know. They say we can be healed, that the truth sets us free. What truth can you tell to a three year-old child that she already doesn’t see.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s