life begins at nautilus teachings

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At first
Young beauty
Standing on the corner
Sunlight upon your hair
Gazing up towards the pool blue sky
Cotton ball clouds bouncing by
Dreaming of one day
Getting married in the pavilion…
Return
Unto the town of youth
Large gnarly oaks still standing
Leaves forever green
The wind caresses your memories
Before your big brown eyes
Blue pavilion now a vine bursting tomato red
You squeeze your lids closed and are covered in seedlings
Home
Shuttered and grey
Two stories with a wrap around porch
Running free up the steps
And flinging your small agile body
Onto the white washed porch swing
Slowly you flow your head backwards
And belly giggle about nothing at all
House
Missing your front porch is loosing your front teeth
The flowered garden of your mother’s
Now holds a full sized cement barn
Cold and barren there is no life
You sit on the small step, rub your hand against the paint
As tears flow quickly upon the wrinkled hands
Which once held life so freely

acceptance
acceptance

Then
It was as if time would stand still
That chocolate malts would always make you smile
Quarters would buy enough candy for a week
Silence was a mere knob turn away
Scents filled your entire being with warm chocolate kisses
Bubble baths were journey’s into dream land
And fresh sheets smelled like sunshine
Now
Beauty still stands across the street from your home
There are no children riding bikes
Or playing hopscotch on the sidewalk
The lavender lilac bushes and linen white lily of the valley
Have been replaced with weeds taller than a fence post
The memories are still in tact
As you walk the neighborhood: the streets of your soul palette
Blank
Was how this life began for you
Cracked, scarred, blurred and broken
Was what happen to your tiny angel wings each day
Saved by the imagination of youth
You were able to breathe in the colors of life
When all around you
Sewage flowed and dared to drown you
Released
Like beautiful white doves in flight
Whimsical images in brilliant hues
Transformed the memories locked inside
As the strokes of your brushes
Gave birth to the realization that you were good
That from your lips and and your fingers
Flowed the pure and simple truths of your life

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