Grown up- Part I "Growth"

When we were younger in school, we were told to write poems.

Back then, all we could fathom and compose was subtle nonsense

peppered with literary techniques taught— assonance, synonyms, dissonance.

Example: The dog jumped over the cat

The cat then devoured the rat

The End

so simple, how blameless, ‘cos we weren’t counting stacks

of experience.

Age brings many presents,

many stories, many lessons,

many words of warning,

disruptions in childhood’s presence.

Take heed, child.

Guard your heart.

Have courage,

love, stand strong

against the currents of life.

Watch out for the Candyman,

the sweet-talkers of adulthood.

The scammers, the traitors, the fakers, the heartbreakers.

Against the trials and tribulations of life,

the Bogeymen, lies rife.

Trust in God and go forth, my dear.

You must

for Time does not stop for anyone, no time for Fear.

Little did the child know about the pain within

the walls of one’s soul quaking

with the chorus of screams from internal demons.

Insecurities, tears, doubts with little reason.

A kid, age 5, who I was once supervising asked me,

“What’s it like being a grown-up?”

I was stunned, I was baffled, I was lost for words

because the question is,

have I really grown up?

There’s still a child inside me that likes to laugh

at silly things like farts.

Or smile at the Sun and the Moon, the endless parts

of the skies making my heart full.

Or the joy I find in hearing fairy tales, myths and legends,

still regarding the childlike imagination with reverence.

In all seriousness, what is it like growing up?

Is growing up finding a job in the city, stable financial income, hustling up that corporate ladder, bustling to invest

in a car, in a house, stocks on the market, meeting all those ‘by-30’ targets?

Is growing up losing the childish naivety, letting go

of that blissfully ignorant spark?

Exposing yourself to the bleaker reality so stark,

becoming pessimistic about journeys yet to be embarked

upon arriving at a destination, personal stagnation and wondering with frustration,

‘Why on earth have I got myself here?’

Is growing up learning to learn, learning to love, learning to really feel from the depths of your soul?

To learn to hurt, to learn that hearts aren’t strong like steel, to learn to heal

through the resuscitating streams that flow from your eyes

until you can’t find it in yourself anymore to cry

because the reservoirs in the hollows of your chest have alas,

drained and dried.