Another paper war today, been doing this sorting through endless folders for three weeks now, to decide what goes to a confidential shredding firm. And there are some surprising finds … old letters, poems, like this one my son wrote when he was eleven …
* * * *
magic is in the air
it is all around us
we use it every day
it is old and beautiful
many people disuse it
but it still fights on
this magic is very special
it is called life …
Course of Mirrors 
Did your son carry on writing ?
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Around the same time he wrote some great stories – must dig them out. His life is very active now, it’s presentations, communication, film projects, djing, events organising, that sort of thing …
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Well, as he has the gift sitting in his back pocket maybe he will come back later. It is a treasure that you can keep until you need it I think.
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The gift of poetry is obviously in the Venema blood – this is just magical. Very uplifting reading it – and written when he was just eleven! I hope he still writes. A beautiful gift such as this is certainly for sharing. Thanks for posting it!
Zan
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Wow! How perceptive! I’ll bet he comes back around to writing at some point in his life that’s less hectic. 🙂
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Thanks 🙂 will let my son know his poem is appreciated.
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