Wildfire Of Memories Burn Poem by Michael Garrett

Many years have passed since I stood as a young child, savoring the consolation of the sun.
Yet I feel him stirring inside of me, kicking, birthed from memory.
I, even now, close my eyes and feel the sun, exuding, igniting my face.
Wildfire of memories burn.
Silently standing, face upturned toward ancient orb so long worshiped and hallowed.
Light eclipsed by closed lids, illumination so bright it begets darkness.
Wormhole to childhood opened.
Me, beginning, similarly postured, turmoil inside forgotten.
Diminutive, searching for love and warmth… Sphere of warmth and power!
I would close my eyes and allow the outer warmth to envelope me.
Terrycloth….for neglected youth.
Hungry body nourished, deserted fire sparked, growth incited.
Young thoughts, fears, mind soothed by delicate warm rays.
Oh...all that has matured since my small feet held firm in the light, face upturned.
The many generations of being that has felt this warmth and passed from this world.
To be Returned?
As I return, through the wormhole, into the mind and body of a much older self.
With eyes held shut, duality reigns; am I truly both of these?
The warmth upon my face confirms; I was and am.
I absorb, nourish and remember.
Umbilical cord of memory nursing my inner child, forever tethered to the placenta in my mind.