Shards of Consciousness

There never was a lady
In her teens or in her eighties
Who ever grew any older
Than sixteen in her heart.

There never was a man
From the coast or in the heartland
Who ever passed the age of twelve
Though tasked with growing old.

We strain and strive all through the hours
To robe the child with adulthood's power
But in the silent hours of night
The masks all fall away.

Our naked self leaps laughing
And gambols gaily dancing
The inner sun that lights the way
Escapes the shadow man.

Then again when dawn appears
We dress our selves in waking fears
But in the distance as we work
Laughter whispers in the air.