To the Owl,
I am curious.
Utterly. It is actually a bit pitiful because everyone around me sees in a moment what I've been trying to glimpse for days.
Is it immaturity?
Ignorace?
Perhaps I am a bit immature. I still look up at the clouds and imagine a world clinging to each condensation. I am wonderstruck at the stars, moon, planets - I still seek out the first robin of the year (it was in February, fluttering up from a snow patch..nutty bird). I don't know the special places other people go - only where my feet have walked. Yet I have a feeling you don't have an opinion on it, except to say "don't let them make you into something you're not."
Into someone you're not.
I am an honest person. But being open is not the same. Maybe I should stay in the nest just a day longer....
YOU ARE READING
Crafting Lightbeams
PoetryA fresh bundle of thoughts, wrapped by a star gazer. Hope you like them all.