once when youth was in my blood
it pumped without observation
there was no rationing and saving
vigor for the reality of what
a “whole day” meant
talents showed up, and were always
unexpected, because years of hard work, attempts, were never behind them.
freedom meant overcoming the restrictions of parents, time-schedules, the expectations of others
not some quest for the dream of
what misinformed enlightenment offers: freedom from pain, suffering,
facing the self-imposed habitual mindset, only to
once again – liberate!
real enlightment, some promise we believe in, and strive towards, as we
grow softer and more supple.
but, there is a new kind of youth,
one less abstract, and gaseous,
there is youth in a form,
that has grown into a work of art –
still admittedly malleable while alive, while alive, always vibrant.
softer, more tender, more unbreakable
this new youth is form, built of the combination of vision and visionlessness.
it says, “I am aware that I exist,”
this awareness has the force of
water, the power to move mountains, the ability to perceive, to be a mountain, if it wills.
youth is not wasted on the young,
because it is truly what we grow into, if we allow it to happen.
ka malana c2019