I reached into spacetime
And grasped the tiny hand
Of the crying little boy
Who was made to go away.
“Who are you?” I asked.
In an oddly familiar voice,
He answered, “Goodness.”
Suddenly I remembered.
I pulled him to me
And we became one–
Again.
I reached into spacetime
And grasped the tiny hand
Of the crying little boy
Who was made to go away.
“Who are you?” I asked.
In an oddly familiar voice,
He answered, “Goodness.”
Suddenly I remembered.
I pulled him to me
And we became one–
Again.
Oh. My… Goodness! I truly love this one, Michael! ~Ed.
LikeLike
I am going to reblog. If you’d rather I didn’t, I will pull it back.
LikeLike
Reblogged this on ~ Trivial Music Silliness ~ and commented:
I can’t even. Michael Jordahl knocks it out of the park with this simple, beautiful piece. I confess to lingering awestruckedness.
LikeLike
Thank you so much. This was hard to write for me as I’m still coming to terms with my childhood abuse.
LikeLiked by 1 person
That makes this even more powerful.
LikeLiked by 1 person
What a powerful poem!
LikeLike
Thank you, Susan! It started out way too long,but I pared it down.
LikeLike
That’s amazing. And end is pleasant surprise 🙂
LikeLike
Thank you, Ruqia. I’m glad you liked it!!
LikeLike
This is a beautiful and touching poem!
LikeLike
Thank you, Tut!!
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’re welcome, Michael 😊
LikeLike
nice and wise . love all
LikeLike
Thank you, ram!!
LikeLike
I’m just learning more about that child I carry with me. It’s remarkable how well they hide, isn’t it? Lovely poem. I’d love to see the longer version.
LikeLike
Thank you, Maggie, is it? It’s a bittersweet thing, to lose yourself to preserve that wonderful inner child
LikeLike
It’s Maggie to some, Meg to others. It is. Bittersweet. I’m reading “For Your Own Good” by Alice Miller. It’s revelatory.
LikeLiked by 1 person