When You're 13 - Rhonda Slater

[Rhonda Slater]

Immutable, you are not, my child.
You swing like leaves from trees,
Feet waving, like birds, over
The blades of grass, so sharp
That would cut a flower in two,
Which angers the honey bees,
Hunting for nectar, dancing
Around you, like the mistaken
Flower you are, that you
Drink like mother's milk,
From the combs, dancing and
Dangling above your
tow-nodding head, as you
Land you stand taller,
Raising above, as a bird
Perches playfully on your shoulder, and you
Shoot like a star towards the
Paradise Shore,
Fun, Frenzy, and Frolic
Are your friends.
Let Shadows you sing to romp and cause ruckus,
As only Peter Pan could
Be more of a child than you.
You lean in to kiss the Looking Glass in the waterfall,
Wishing to meet love like yourself, as you
Sing and evolve, and you emerge
A siren to call for Sailors to rush
To you, to bring you to Treasure Island.
Oh the child in you, and
You cry for your home,
But you are definitely growing by your length,
and Limbs, and broader chest, as you
Pound away at dumbbells.
Never mind the schoolmarm,
Handing you those bound, heavy hard papers,
That would pierce your cherubic soul,
and infect your world with reality.
Only once sleepy, you sit to
Trace confounding letters in the sand,
As you build a castle like a mythical treehouse,
As your Gulliverian foot smashes the door,
And you shout with anger,
At the rebuttal of nature, that allowed
You no Safe Harbor.
My child, you must return to the roots and trees,
To aspire, build, fold wood together to plan,
With the ink of berries,
To view, dream where you lived and grew.
But, immutable don't become,
Still lay on thatched roofs, and envision hope,
After letting change jingle in your pockets.
And you can drink heavier nectar again,
Amongst your friends of old,
Who can teach you to build
A new Hearth, and let you tell tales
Of the Island, as you teach younger
Fellows to seek the Holy Grail,
Have mishaps that remind you,
No longer 13 are you,
but a child in your heart you always can be.