Growing Up

I’m young again, I hear traces of grace notes

Accentuating the aching of my heart apart from home

Apart from all that I love

Above all the deep abiding care that launched me into what

I wanted to be, hoped I would be, could be

The wellspring of caring that taught me that love exists everywhere,

In the air, ruffling the light in your hair.

The nights with endless moonbeams that sift into me a melancholy of reverie

All that exists, persists, insists, won’t be dismissed

By growing up.