dormant
R S Parmar -
....as with the years, life grows complex,
so do ways of the simpleton
and what was thought to be maturity
reveals itself as a mirage - a desert quirk,
a desert quirk, no more
for maturity, like utopia
a limitless, undefinable. desirable
it is but conjecture of wishful mind,
and of curious thought.
there is nothing, i say, like maturity,
what the hell are we groping at?
each new step the toddler's experience,
one learns, one unlearns, one begins to know
that which was so easy
is not one days show,
that each step is a limp and no more,
that there are many miles to go,
growing old back into childhood,
for in learning we learn the infinite truth:
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