Finding the Poetry

I feel that the air is light.
People around me have second sight.
Leaves pass away, as the air turns cold.
I think of a time where I was eight years old.
Baptism mingles with my date of birth.
I move closer to feel my worth.
Kindness is felt in many a cluster.
To feel the light courage I must muster.

One day I will marry, but today I study.  There are things that hang in the air.  I feel cloudy with a chance of rain.  I am scared to get out there again  New traditions dangle their posibillities in my face.  My countanace is firm, but plain.  I know what and who I know.  Sometimes I feel like it is hard to grow.  Being the creature that I am, it is hard to take your hand.  Baskets sit around my feet.  I fill them with bundles of twine to knit a design.  If I said something wrong, I am so sorry.  It is just hard to be a drone when I am so all alone.  I have courtesy, but the toys break when people play with me.  Light signals a passing and I will jump for joy when the Almighty takes my hand and leads me to the Sea of Galilee.