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We have been attending weekly meditation sessions with a few friends. During one of the earlier sessions, our facilitator guided us to the place described in the story – a lively steam, grasslands up to our knees and a wonderful forest of tall trees. I was frustrated by the fact that I never left the rock. Mulling over the session later, I was given this explanation by my Spirit… –

Just One of the Boys

With pant legs rolled up,

The boys waded into the cool, clear stream.

Summer had begun;

The adventures would start anew,

As they had year after year

Since before they had become teenagers.

 

One by one they left the stream,

Walking ashore into the inviting woodlands,

Tall grasses rising up to their knees.

Lingering, he climbed upon a large rock

In the middle of the stream,

As he watched the others slowly disappear from his view.

 

Feeling  somewhat contented, he wondered about his future –

What would be his true path?

Tears began flowing down his cheeks

Into the cool, shimmering stream,

Reflecting his adolescent face.

 

He tightly closed his eyes-

Visions of layers of himself peeling away,

As the tears fell.

To which of his friends could he reveal

His secret – sacrificing their friendships?

For even at his young and tender age he knew –

Once the secret was out in the open,

There would be no more adventures –

Just loneliness, more hidden secrets

More layers waiting to be peeled away.

 

Looking up

His friends came around the corner of the woods,

Questioning his decision to remain behind,

Sitting on the rock in the middle of the stream.

This summer – perhaps his last with them,

He would continue to be –

Just one of the boys.

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