The Child Who Never Left the Man

There is a child hidden in my grown body, not weak, not lost, just observant. Stand before me as a child, and I will kneel to your innocence without shrinking my truth. Stand before me as a friend, and I will listen without judgment or masks. Stand before me broken, and I will speak gently, but honestly. Stand before me as work, and the child will step aside, discipline will speak, emotion will wait, rules will not bend. I am not confused. I am not inconsistent. I am responsive. The world calls it childish. I call it awareness. Because maturity is not killing the child, it is knowing when to let him breathe and when to let him rest