I.
In infancy
we did not attempt to utter unutterable things.
We knew without knowing how we knew,
and we let ourselves dwell there,
in that sort of meaningful magic.
We knew to doubt the doubts.
So we lived fierce and free,
suckling the bosom of that odd Truth.

II.
It was not until
they ripped us from those arms of peace
and sat us under the tree of knowledge
that the magic became monotony,
that we forgot how to rest.
Our unsettled minds
now living in invisible chains,
but knowing not why it is hard to be free.

III.
In fear,
now we only love meekly,
when we mean it violently.
Our minds becoming dull day by day,
straining for knowledge,
but resisting Wisdom;
desiring rebirth,
yet resisting the Spirit.

IV.
We have grown old by sinning.

//We have grown old by sinning
//Collette Kristevski, 2015
*art and words are my own*