This girl

As a child I had wishes and dreams. Daring adventures planned. Love unbounded.

Only hope was to be seen. Shy. Poetic. Wild girl upon a hill. Staring in expansion of the sky through leaves, branches in the trees.

Ah that girl, that gangly child dreaming of the embrace of love in the world. Ah wild you see.

Not contained but free. Unchanged from views of passion. The need of the world. The dreams scattered inside the wind.

Dear friend, did you know this girl?

If she danced before you in the rain, threw leaves -crisp and musky in your face, sung way off key or if she just patted the soft, wet grass next to her would you recognize her today?

Frozen. Bittered. Stoic. Reserved. Private. Would you know of this wild, shy girl?

The girl who stood on the hill. The girl who swung from branch to branch. The girl who ran free. The girl who twirled in the night rain.

Did you ever think, would you ever believe she changed?  Became the sigh. Pressing her dreams on hold. Standing in the shelter as the rain pelted her toes.

Would you see her, dear friend, as this beautiful friend?

Not lost. Not depressed. Not sad. Not even angry.

Just softly treading. Just cautious. Just hoping one day hands would open and gather her to dance.

Ah just standing, breathing into the autumn wind she stares, waiting as she must for just one yes.

A star that gathers, leaps through the sky. This is her hopes, her dreams.  Did you know?

Close your eyes today. Sapphires cling to slate then soft skies. Her recklessness is only her freedom. Her remaining wildness, the part of her that loves unconditionally.

I have come so far. Learned so much. Yet all I ask is for to be seen. Shy. Odd. Unique. Quirky. Wild. Subdued. Yet searching and hoping. Dreaming and loving. True and here, real.

Would I, could I ever be seen as such, dear one?