In every year there are seasons –
  seasons to remember.
This is my season to remember –
  the season of my youth.
This past year has been a good year,
  a year filled with a unique season.

Growth permeated the past twelve months,
  as the fragrant smell of a blooming rose,
and at times touched the senses,
  as the salty air of a turbulent sea.
Regardless, whether the odor on the wind,
  be sweet or of brine,
    grand memories fill the pages of my mind.

I finally began a journey I planned,
  a decade or two ago.
All the equipment I gathered in the passing years,
  I will use in these passing days.

On the maps I marked paths to travel and,
  I noted sights to see,
they will all find their place,
  where I have wanted me to be.

I still have the map from when I was eight,
  I planned to visit Northern Canada and
    pursue the legendary Neanderthal Bigfoot.
And the map from when I was fourteen,
    where I traced the route of the Donner Party traveled.
These were two mighty adventures for a boy who had not:
  driven a car,
    cast a vote, or
      tasted a kiss.

I continued that journey to Denver, Colorado. A friend named Jullieanne moved there.
  Jullieanne and I met in the sixth grade; we became friends: friends to the end.
  Friends, through we did not know what friendship meant.

There are other trips I planned,
 most of them are only traveled in my mind.
If I only ventured out far enough,
  to “get my feet wet,”
  then I may have begun this incredible journey long ago.

But, as a warm blooded creature,
  and one accustomed to dry land,
    I never ventured out far enough into life,
      to enjoy a new season.

Now I appreciate the change of seasons and the changes in me.
  I have come to realize change can be harsh, but so can stagnation.

Being afraid to reach out to,
  and for:
            new adventures,
            new surroundings,
            new friends
            is natural,
                        and inhibiting.

 If the foal refused to walk,
           How would she find her mother’s milk?
  If the chick declined to fly,
            how would he leave his serene nest?
  If I remained in my realm of comfort,
            where would I be in this season –
                        The season of my youth?

There are new paths to travel and
  new creatures to marvel: at.
    Each day brings new life and
      new surprises.
With the raging of the wild fries and
  the pounding of the oceans surf,
    comes change.

I witness these changes and I wonder:
      “what changes and adventures await me?”
Will I ever soar the wind,
  like the eagle?
Will I ever understand the bond
  of a mother and child?
Will I ever sail the ocean,
  with world explorers?
            Will I ever…”

In this season of my youth,
  there is much to wonder about.
I believe this is the joy of this season,
  the joy of my youth.
I wonder about the season still ahead and
  the mountains left to climb?

As this season will blend into the next,
  one of maturity,
   I will sit atop this mountain and
    look down on the world I wondered through,
      in previous seasons.

Undoubtedly, the question will arise,
  while I sit upon the jagged summit,
  “when will I return to the world below?”

In the interim –
  may I sit here in this mystical place,
  for just awhile longer,
  breathing in the air from above,
    for which there is so much of.

Allow me to gaze over the peaks,
  far off in the distance;
    As they reach for the same sky,
            As I.

Let me embrace the treasure,
  for which there is no measure;
the beauty of this place,
  that resembles your face.

There is no other that can equal the grandeur
  I see and enjoy,
    in this season –
          the season of my youth.


The end

(C) 1996 Randolph D. Brown, Jr.