and he allows himself to come out and 'play' every so often...
seldom, actually.....
for his sense of responsibilty is fierce.....and all enveloping.....
as though he were the FATHER of everything mystical......
he carves and studies and chants and 'casts'......
and somehow, he forgets his very own 'humanity'......as such......
and the little boy who lives inside his body cries......
tears of a child, wanting to be free of encumbrance....of work......
but his sense of obligation tends to override the 'little boy's needs'.....
hence....
his insides can feel twisted and torn......
quite in contrast to his physical 'beauty'.......
nonetheless......
we continue to love him......
for he has a piece of our heart in his back pocket......
for safe keeping......:)
ode to 'ricky'........
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