A child poet

I started to write a poem at the age of four as soon as I learned how to read and write basic characters.

I wrote without knowing I was wrting a poem.

Writing was soothing activity and allowing me to be free.

I wrote about birds, grass, trees, weather and all the other natural phenominons entertaining me in a daily basis. 

I was intrigued by the sounds of wind and the waves all the vegetations made as if they were like alive, biological entities.

I sensed they were speaking to each other— and to me. 

The words live side by side with nature or nature lives in words.

The words, nature, my soul, in all one.

This sense of unity was apparant and calming my nerves. 

I felst a sense of trust despite my life.

I was not interested in the science aspect of nature. 
It did not matter to me to know what was rain, why it fell from sky and what caused it.

It did not matter to me about the plants's growth cycle or butterfly's metamorphosis. 

Instead, I was very intrigued with their nature, their activities and their relationship with the eco-system. 

And I felt I was a part of this vast scheme.

I know we were more than the solid matter. 

The heaven, the air, and all the entities—were spiritual entities for me. 

I felt it so profoundly.

They are alive in a sence we don't believe and the modern men has lost in touch with this understanding.

Nevertheless, young children know. 

They are close to God and to the etherical world where they belong to. 

I was poet when I was small.

Then, I gradually losing it by living a school child's life busy adjusting to the harsh reality—no more daydreaming but just doing the normal things in normal way to fit for the soicety I lived in to be accepted. 

Now, after the decades of absence from writing, I came back to my home.

I have started to write a poem, and recently, a hiku or tanka poem. 

I enjoy so much that I truly feel at home, although I am not sure how good I write.

But it does not matter. All it does matter is how I feel at home. 

Without any efforts or force, if the the words apring up out of my chest and my hands start to type, I know I am at home.