Inner Child {part Three} Poem by Tolly Rebeka Christian BlackWolf Hawk

In the soft light of the moon, I wander aimlessly in the park.
The coo of a mourning dove, the trill of the whippoorwill, the baying of a hound, the howl of the coyote.
All these sounds cascading down my ears, no fear do I feel.
I hear my own footsteps, lightly crushing the fallen leaves.
I smell the storm coming from the south, the clean energizing scent; and begin to run, just run!
Pain racks my chest after awhile, but even so, I feel free, joyful, and alive.
I look down and see my smile reflected in a pool of water.
Shock stills my steps, for who do I see staring back at me?
It is the child I used to be, reflected by a living mirror!
She never left, she only slept while I worked and studied.
Waiting for play to gently rap upon her door.