i need a time out

i need it like i've been hit in the belly by a giant red rubber dodge-ball half the size of me,

with a scraped knee bloody and still burning

with no friends on my side

and ten minutes remaining

of this recess that wasn't a recess at all.

it was an onslaught of no good snack trades,

lack of band-aids,

no whistles,

asphalt bruises,

distant laughter,

and ugly crying.

shaky and gasping,

a grown up is feeling like a twelve year old who's

afraid of looking like a baby in front of everyone.

can i go back in time with the grace of now?

a mish-mash of wisdom from all of my ages:

I summon the maturity to wash my wounds, dust my elbows off and sweep the little kid ponytail off to one side.

I laugh at the grown-ups watching because this turn,

this is the turn i pick my magic square.

This turn the marker falls just right:

with a flash from the sun,

slowing the seconds,

morphing them into a montage of hopscotch victory,

ninja style double-dutch,

and capturing the flag without turning back.

if i can look forward enough to do so,

i can look back until i become drowsy from all this hoping.

ancient tradition says detachment is a part of it.

all is transitory.

all my happenings are done and there is only this:

a heart that draws things to me. breath that gives me light.

a sighing out of joy and relief.

Yet inside, still existing beautifully, is that shakiness.

under real and cosmic blankets, while i'm curled up in a ball,

is that feeling and that very basic need

of being

held.