Title: Young Again

Summary: Aragorn copes with who he is. (poem)

*****

Back again to the home that was for false for real

Weary from travel and exhausted with use and exertion

But comes a summons and no rest for the weary

But for companions two who take wide-eyed sleep

No rest for the weary that need it most.

Yet complaints not befitting, "You summoned me, Ada?"

Childish words, perhaps, for one of those years,

But words of truth

And a nod in response,

Is that a nod of disapproval?

Do not his eyes reveal such weariness reflected?

"This I have done,

Aragorn son of Arathorn."

All feeling gone and confusion takes control

Yet suddenly so many pieces of the puzzle come together

A King of Men,

Why must it be? Why must it be me?

Raised among Elves so ethereal and patient

Why must now I leave for the world of Men

So brash and a race destined for despair.

And so much pain twisting, a blunt-ended stick to the heart

On he speaks but sound has abandoned

Vision curling and swirling as if a whirlpool

Suddenly the air is gone like a punch to the stomach

Responsibility is too much

And more than anything I want to be young again,

I want to be a child,

I want to be young enough

To take solace in a father's hug

I wish I were small enough to cry now

I want to be young again,

So I can run to my brothers for comfort

I wish I could be young enough

That "hurt" meant I fell down

I wish I were young enough

That I could do anything but swallow hard

And focus on breathing

Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale

Just keep on breathing.

My head is swimming

I can feel the tears

Salt water pricking the backs of my eyes

What I wouldn't give to cry those tears. . .

"Aragorn? Are you all right?"

"Your pardon," I request,

"I am weary with travel."

And, dismissed, I go to rest

And to take the smallest comfort

At least I do not have to see the world when I sleep.