I lost something along the way of growing up
and I didn't even realize it.
like something dropped out of my pocket that made me
Me.
Or the Me that I had known
and was lost
Someday as the years passed.
And I never grieved.
Shit.
I never even realized.
I changed.
This morning it found it.
the it that I was.
that I had lost.
Found.
My son says, "Mommy..
I see a baby carrying a stick."
Initially the me I was... before I was found again
Was confused.
Annoyed.
Late. Frazzled.
Tired.
Of Life.
Baby carrying a stick.
Then with squinting eyes as if remembering
that I had forgotten to look up
in the morning.
at all.
I saw clouds.
Shifting.
Changing.
Breathing across the sun soaked blueness
that caused my lost eyes to ache
from forgotten sight.
And I found it.
It.
Me.
Found in clouds.
In the voice of my son.
In response, "Son, I see a turtle."
And.. I could not longer look at the road.
The road was lost.
I looked at what I had found in the clouds.
The shapes that I had lost for years.
That I had failed to see
in life's passing.
Altering.
Evolving.
And I wanted to devolve.
To the person who had never lost anything at all
and walk through lost mornings as the Me I had found.
