I met my younger self on the road
He looked at me with suspicion
I looked back with love
He said he was angry
I told him it will pass
He said ‘I hate the world.’
I showed him there is no world outside him
He dragged a bag around filled with stuff
I told him he wouldn’t need it for long
He asked me, ‘What am I going to do?’
I said, ‘Trust.’
‘Trust what?’
‘Life.’
We talked for a long time
I showed him what he had become
How he let go of his grievances
How his wounds turned to gifts
And his confusion turned to clarity
How joyous and forgiving he had become
And how all the pain turned to grace
He had no idea who I was
But his eyes sparkled with teary emotion
When our encounter came to an end
We hugged and drifted back to our journeys
I swear I saw a skip in his step as he disappeared
Into the distance.
Poetry of Beauty 
Great poem.
True, so silly we feel later years later.
Loved it!❤️
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Thanks!
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Homage to Transistion. Kavi you have a beautiful soul. You are a prize possession and gift by example.
My youngest son went on an emotional spiral downslope when his dad and I had split up. He was just 12. He has since become a calm soul and awesome young man! We have the most beautiful talks!
Your words brought tears to a mother’s eyes…
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Beautiful Myth* Yes, I could never have imagined I would turn into who I am, although there were signs in earlier life. I was always very sensitive, but that was a wound once, now it is a blessing. Thank you for sharing x
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Kavi, it is a privilege to read your valuable work. It leads to a path to where there is so much self acceptance and love that awaits us all! Thank you!
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