396. Fly Away Child

The grass-blades blew around my feet,

As a child I looked to the sky.

I knew you were my everything,

Yet one day, that you would die.

I studied you in the distance;

A form of God on earth.

I worshipped without question,

The toiler of my birth.

I called out with no reply.

I saw you there unmoving.

I wondered why you were so still,

Neither loving nor disapproving.

Like a picture of a memory,

You were perfect in my eyes;

With a smile: warm and tender.

I was naive and unwise.

Then a feeling hit me like a rock,

And I ran as tears fell down.

I ran, and ran, and ran,

Through the wheat at dawn.

I came so close to you,

I swear I heard your heart,

And as you faded away,

I kept listening for your heart.

Yet, your heart, it left with you,

Along with my youth.

You left me unsure of my worth,

For to me, you were it’s proof.

I was only a child afraid,

Who wanted you to stay,

But my picture of you drifted,

On the winds of a new day.

You never ran to me, not once;

Nor cared to hear my heart.

If I ever needed a hug,

Or if I’d fallen apart.

I wish I’d known on that day long ago,

No matter how hard I ran,

I’d never have made it there in time,

For you to hold my hand.

The grass-blades blew around my feet,

On the day I said goodbye,

To the picture I had of you,

And turned toward the sky.

It’s blue was as an ocean: pure,

I found hope in it’s peace,

That even those left all alone,

May find their love increase.

The grass-blades blew around my feet,

As a child I looked to the sky.

I wish I could have let her know,

That one day she’d be able to fly…

Into the loving arms of some distant, future sky.

K. Aldaya, 5/20/17

Picture: https://www.videezy.com/free-video/cornfield

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250. Please Forgive Me

sad-little-girl

I’m really very sorry,

That I was born this way.

I’m really, truly, sorry,

That this won’t go away.

I know it is just awful,

To have a child as me;

And you must have a chestful,…

Of disappointment, and plea….

To your God, “Oh Why? Oh Why?”….

“Was I burdened with such?”

“A child so sinful to mortify,

My holy human touch?”

Children as that: all the same;

They all have the disease!

There is no cure for its’ name,

Or its’ eyes which displease.

I know you deeply hate me,

For being born this way.

Down on my knees I could plea,

But this won’t go away.

Sorry you had to bother.

Messed up your perfect plan.

Please, won’t you forgive me father,

For being a woman?

K. Aldaya, 8/26/13

Picture:  Photographer Unknown; http://merryfarmer.files.wordpress.com/2012/07/sad-little-girl.jpg