second coming (of age)
(that's me and my gorgeous mother. she isn't perfect, but she luvs me -- i hope -- and i luv her. dearly.) and so we march on. with heads up, heavy, weary, wary heart. but still in fighting form. that's what i learned from my forty three year stay in a forgotten country. this is my second coming of age journey, if ever there is one. i am a child. at heart. i never want to grow up. i have a peter pan complex and luv it. my face no longer shows it - so many lines on the forehead and below the eyes, tired, droopy, have seen them all eyes. even my once lush, black hair is slowly receding, with the few black ones turning to grey. gone are the high cheekbones too, the innocent stares, the unknowing, nervous smiles. time is kinder to nature - the trees, the stones. a tree blossoms as it ages. a stone becomes more adept at surviving anywhere - land, sea even air. but us humans? we shrink, we wrinkle, we become more fearful as we grow older. we become more stupid as we ...