a poem by Susan Arcady Barich ©2009
They use to look at him
as the wild one of the family,
the outrider.
“Oh, dear!”
Just like his grandmother,
my mother,
the Sagittarius,
the black sheep,
yet, the manager,
the perfectionist,
the lover of life.
Just like her father,
the Sagittarius,
the rule bender,
the builder,
the craftsman,
the devourer of life.
They who run to greet each new day.
They who challenge each new moment.
They who live without fear,
but ask only for the strength to accept
what is.
Is it the December birthdays?
Or is it the genes?
Who knows.
They used to look at him
as the wild child.
And now, looking at all
that lust for life teaches,
now they look to him
to show up for them,
to listen to them,
to counsel them,
Now they look to him
to lead.
