Words Awakening...by "Me"

Sweet, Innocent One
Eyes wide, heart open
Your fragile and growing dream eggs
Gestating
All in one hopeful, well-chosen (or so you thought) basket.

In such a hurry
Born of boredom
And weary of waiting
So much, so long held back
Bursting at the seams of your someday.

What you only see now
Is how many of those dreams
Were lovingly chosen
By well-meaning others.

You filled your plate
Your cup runneth 'ore
You graciously and anxiously accepted
Grateful at last to have found your place.

You busied yourself warming eggs
And unknowingly feeding others hatching baby dreams
Unaware you held inside
Your own embryos of joy
Growing; patiently waiting
Wondering if you'd ever stop long enough to listen.

He was raised as a sheep
At least that is what he was always told
But deep inside the fangs and fur,
Of a wolf were growing
They more suited his spirit and fed the feelings of aliveness he craved.

Told bedtime stories of lives lived happily-ever-after
Grazing on grass
With the guidance and protection of shepherds. 

Sometimes his tongue caught the sharp edge of a canine
Other times he struggled to push down the urge to run free
Way faster than he had been told sheep could run.

It concerned him, but he never quite dare
Untie the string he'd discovered
Holding the cloak of soft, white wool around and over him.


You, were raised as a shepherd girl.
It suited you.
Spending your days tending to others
Occupying your mind with their safety and happiness.
It sort of helped, but inside the little girl longed
To abandon the bonnet
And take off running
Not caring where it took you. 

He picked you as his Shepherd.
Hoping you could make him happy in the rolling hills of green
When wandering and hunting were slowly
Boiling in his blood

Both innocent actors
Playing parts
Wearing costumes
Long ago assigned,
But growing tighter by the day.

Both awaking confused
At yoke-covered whiskers
Your mysteriously closing heart
At the sight of your missing eggs
But afraid to look for explanations
Not wanting....but wanting...the play to end.
After all, sheep don't eat eggs or have whiskers
And Shepherds don't abandon their flock.

Only recently
Through spectacles of hindsight
Have you dared really look back
And stare at the set
That was your life
And compassionately embrace
The broken hearts
The deep, mutual disappointments
The missing eggs
The dissatisfaction of subsiding
On a diet of grass
And living life in one pasture
With only one basket of dreams
Meant to keep it all together

In the end, the curtain descended
The wolf took off the cloak and took the blame
But also deserves the credit.

For in eating your eggs
And life hiding your basket
You were left
Perfectly poised
To take center stage
In the starring role
As yourself. 

Valerie Wilkins Alder 2008