Treasure Island

Luke Easter

(Cleveland, Ohio)

A Child’s Views

Do I remember at the age of 6 watching Mr. Ed the talking horse?
Thursday’s after school and did I believe he could talk, of course,
Cartoons and the Little Rascals so I never had time for the news,
The Three Stooges, Mickey, Daffy and Mighty shaped my views.

Politics was not only a word I couldn’t write but never understood,
Because in my world an intentional wrong doing or up to no good,
Was a sure sign of disaster, destruction, there’s trouble up ahead,
As it only made the next day worse if faked sickness going to bed.

Alas, the teenage years rock-n-roll stayed out late so cool so wild,
Yet with the body of an innocent sixteen year-old I was still a child,
Awakened to the reality a thousand crossroads what should I say?
Across the border without looking back as you showed me the way,

Alive with completion of the test study time was over way too soon,
My wasted vigil of true love, knowledge & appreciation, now doom,
Raising my voice from the multitude, native accent in serious peril,
Being the first woman to swaddle my nakedness not boy with girl.

A lesson was learned that day not one of love but of being used,
For I broke the heart of another pure in heart to be sinful with you,
Weak human accent I wasn’t looking but deceitfulness seeped in,
Stumbled path homeward nudging my feel along a crooked bend.

A circle of reverence I shall start out on a journey only to remain,
40 years trapped in the wilderness like Israelites unless I refrain,
And in no lifetime will I have 40 years to waste waiting for change,
Immutably is not a final answer to this test, I think it’s not strange.

From whence came the illusion that I now or ever will know it all?
The very first man, kings, princes and presidents did they not fall?
Great and mighty on the waterways is not the ever powerful ship?
And yet is it not navigated by a tiny rudder same as the human lip?

An apology, a bow, pray on one knee, forgiveness from the heart,
The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step & so I start,
Recompense unprepared should I atone for immediate disgrace?
Alone to scale the mountain seeking restoration within your face.

Now my travel kit is dust baked with love and not a gold filled cup,
Yet, how can I become a responsible anything if I never grow up?
I must humble myself before myself before I can spread the news,
In faithfulness through honesty grown-up & not by A Child’s Views.

w/Leela Devi

Submitted: Wednesday, December 29, 2010

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