The child
skipped through my mind
leaving a trail of uncertainty.
The grown-up one,
old and weathered beyond her age,
Chided, berated and scolded
with unbending disapproval
the experience of seeking
in a world lost.
Innocence gone
in a torrid, twisting chain,
long forgotten broken links
corroded from misuse.
Rejoice! Rejoined,
The old is as the new
like brass now polished,
the chain repaired
with grown-up wisdom
and child-like wonder;
innocence anew.