She Went Forth

She Went Forth She travelled forward every day looking upon objects the same, And the many objects gazed upon, she took in, And that object was incorporated with her for a single day, Or many years and many cycles of years. The grandfather became part of this child, And insects and lizards and gardens, and adventures of the forests, and listening of the earth, And the laughing and loving of family, and the making of friends, And the rushing of the river and the crackling of fireworks, and the small tadpoles and delicate minnows of the river, And the rowdy noises of tubers down the horseshoe, and the beautiful gathering of family, And the bright lit sky with fiery explosions, all became part of her. The reading and playing became part of her, Books and those of the school, and the fantastic tales of authors, And the brightly colored playground with children about and the quietness afterward, and bright red berries, and the black berries by the fence, And the nagging gossip from the giggling girls at the playground during recess, And the teachers who scold naughty kids, And the friendly girls that pass’d, and the friendly boys that pass’d, And the playful boys with sweat dripping down their foreheads, and the more quiet shy boys, And all the changes of city and country wherever she went. Her own parents, her father and mother who conceived her and birthed her, They gave this child more of themselves than that of which anyone can imagine, They gave her happiness, and every day they became an important part of her. The mother at work bustling away in the city, The mother whose soft words, never gave an insult, gently cared and loved with affection, The father, strong, loud, boisterous, proud, anger’d, unjust, The loud word, the language, the quiet, the calmness, the two-faced personality, Affection that is always present good or bad, the sensing of what is real, the thought proven true, The clarity of the day and the serenity of night, the curiosity of how this occurs, Is it all flashes and memories? Adolescent boys and girls crowd the hallways, if they are not irrelevant faces that disappear from memories, what are they? The familiar streets themselves and the still houses, and the house dogs barking, Vehicles, buses, the people taking their afternoon jog, the six-o-clock traffic flying down the street, The suburb in the wilderness seen from a witness, the sunset shining between the grey clouds, Shadows, humidity, and stillness, the light fading from the falling sun and the roofs of houses in the distance, The house lights vanishing to black, the living of the day asleep for the night, The clouds silver with moonlight, the midnight moon standing alone in the sky, motionless and pure, These objects became part of her whom she embraced every day, and continues her journey, and will always continue her journey every day until the clock runs out.