That I Am A Small Child Again

Inside – a quiet space one might approach idles in a dark later forgotten.

But what does it mean, this first acquaintance with its primitive elusiveness, combined with the telling commentary of a muffled breeze drifting down the stairs.

Outside – the sun at its zenith.

Look, look, the heart cannot shake this flurry of sentimentality that stirs at its centre – a lamenting rhythm of homesickness and its endearing elegy of recollection laced so well with memories kept hidden until – childhood voices return. 

Meanwhile, something within briefly glows.