SOMETIMES i WISH THAT

I might turn back

to a time and place where I found

refuge from the small disappointments of childhood

in the strong arms

of the pepper tree

at the front of our house.

From that safe embrace

our acre seemed endless to me

an infinite universe

attached to my heart and lungs

as if I were its only child

and it would be there always to sustain me

It was an easy time

through the open gate

and down the silver path

where the moon sat high and full

above the field

and stars hung low whispering

secrets from other realms

to the leaves of trees

along the rim of the hill.

Whenever I think of the sky

all golden-lilac-rose

at the close of day,

the silhouette of birds winging their way home

and Grandma’s cheerful voice calling “dinner time”

at the open kitchen door

I wish that I could live again

 just one more day

                   all those rich colors and sounds

that hung so thrillingly in the air

As time passes—the magic sometimes fades

and the bright visions of one’s youth grow vague

as vague as smoke in light.

          But memories of our youth are like old snap-shots

stuck away in a box and long forgotten on a shelf

                   and while they cannot be relived

they can be recalled with a smile

           examined closely in the light of this very day

revealing some of the mystery of who we are now.