Boy

Boy by Oushka Duncan

His small uncertain feet,
Seeking a direction,
He pauses for a moment,
Lost in introspection.

He's frozen in a moment,
A tiny slice of time,
Seeing his reflection,
Shine back from pavement grime.

His Mother holds his hand now,
But soon she will release,
His life to be his own then,
His dependence soon to cease.

Then he'll take his own steps,
Walk amongst the world so large,
But will he be a follower,
Or will he be in charge?

He has so many choices,
Of what and who to be,
Each step he makes, will take him,
Towards his destiny.

He dreams of being a dancer,
Of dancing on the stage,
He leaps and spins so freely,
His passion so engaged.

He lifts his head to skyward,
His dream, it is so clear,
He chooses to believe it,
And hold the vision dear.

His Mother tugs his hand now,
She wants to rush to school,
He walks along beside her,
Sees words upon a wall.

Painted in huge letters,
The message loud and clear,
"This world, it is your playground,"
It's been there since last year.

He thinks he understands it,
He grins and squints his eyes,
He looks just like a small boy,
But his soul is in disguise.

Soon, he'll walk with man's steps,
Strong and firm upon the ground,
He seems to understand now,
But he doesn't make a sound.

The school gates have been opened,
He walks upon the grass,
And waves goodbye to Mother,
And makes his way to class.