Flustered Axons

Time changes, and boy, does it change fast.
I remember kicking the stand of my bicycle and pedaling down the steep hill in the park,
the wind strong against my face, my hair playing on the waves of the speedish-formed gale.
Pedaling away at speeds so fast that at one wrong turn of the handle,
could mean the most painful of infliction of wounds on the shins of my legs,
or the loudest looking bump on my head, screaming out the pain it implies.
But what did I care?

I mean really, did I need to look good in class the next day?
Did I really need to pass an exam the the follwing day?
Did I have to hand in an assignment or do something that would require both my limbs indefinitely?

Cares were the last thing on my mind on that bike.
With the wind in my face, all I cared about was how fast I could really go…

I wonder these days. Could I go faster now?
What if I were to kick the stand of that bike on last time,
and for one day only, pedal to the ends of the world.
Or maybe pedal fast enough that I might take flight into the heavens,
beyond all worry and into my abode of eternal carelessness.

Oh I wish I could fly. Every care in the world wouldn’t be my concern.
I could scour the skies for that elephant shaped cloud,
or dance among the twinkling little stars that would welcome me with open arms,
or jump over the moon and see what fun the cow and the little dog had.

Oh that cow… I bet he didn’t have to care about anything.
What I would give to be so free, so certain that everything would be fine…

But I’m not that kid anymore.
I don’t even have time to pick my paths anymore. I don’t to stand at my life’s crossroads, to cry and feel lost,
All this because I am growing…
Only because my bones tell the story of a life.
and only because my skin holds the history of my mistakes,
and only because my eyes, they grow deeper to form the crypts in which my tears flow,
as they see the future of decisions and responsibility,
laid down as the york on a horse that pulls a life of worthiness and fulfillment.

Oh the longing that comes from wanting to be free of care. But I am growing.
I am becoming a man. A man that has to stay strong like the arches that support the domes of a great hall.
I have to hold myself in a firm strong way. No less of an instant can I turn around to let go.

I am growing.
Growing to let others grow.
Growing to let the preachers of my life care no more.
Growing to allow the mistakes in my life count for something.
Growing to find a better hope in the world.
Growing to say that I truly loved… And was loved back.
Growing, so that one day, I can stand back,
and watch the children of my loins care for nothing,
and then watch them grow.
Then I would be ready to flow into the realms of which I was conceived as the smallest drop of paint in a bigger picture.

But for one last time, when my head lays so gently on my pillow tonight,
I will dream of the times when I wish I could fly.
And then, I will fly with my thoughts into another world,
not caring one bit, for what is to come tomorrow…