I find myself dancing a razorwire tightrop through life

protection

March 3, 2010 at 1:17 am (Uncategorized)

“No, no” said my father, as he carefully removed a carving knife from my childish hands, “you aren’t old enough for that yet.” I cried, I wanted to carve beautiful shapes in the wood, wanted to create. I left it where he put it, and I have all my fingers.

“Stop!” cried my father, pulling me from the oncoming traffic, “You must always cross the street with an adult!” I was upset, I wanted to go where I wanted, but I listened, and I am not in a wheelchair.

“Not til you are ready” said my father, when I begged to drive the car, “you are much too young.” I desperately wanted to drive myself, but I listened and I still have my life.

“Not yet” said my Father, as I asked him for a woman, “you aren’t ready.” So I am listening…