It was when I felt most alive,
Before the fallen world contrived
To overturn all that had been.
I had not yet to start again
Because I had but barely started
In the world. Still open-hearted,
I set out to make my name
In cloistered world, to earn acclaim
Within the ivory tower’s halls.
I’d not yet hidden in the walls,
A skulking mouse. I knew the world,
Saw each new banner that unfurled
And marked devices each displayed;
I knew well, then, what was well made,
Knew how to act, knew how to be,
Knew how to parse what I did see,
Knew what the current flow would bring.
It’s easy, now, of that to sing
In minor key while looking back
And wondering what I now lack
Of what I had then, who I was.

I cannot go back now because
Nobody ever can go back,
And I have gained more than I lack,
Which is, withal, a normal thing.
My castle’s small; I am no king,
Yet still some gladly take the knee,
Do as I ask, though they are free,
While on me, no small charge is laid.
I face it, and the world, afraid
And wish sometimes that I could curl
Myself in bed, tight as a burl,
But such hope as I have me calls.
I leave my dreams where each may fall
And work that I might keep the same
From happening to whom I claim,
Who themselves are newer started
In the world, still open-hearted,
Whose hopes and dreams I can defend,
Though all mine, else, have reached their end.
In this, at least, I’m not belied.
Rest now, old dreams; for now, abide.

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