1st draft Sestina - 1 - 6 stanzas

Childhood fades to that faraway place
where blue skies frame a joyful sun
that fed the spirit and nurtured growth
of small bodies eager for the living
when laughter tinkled like crystals in the breeze
in an anthem of spontaneous expression.

We try to regain that free expression
that binds us firmly to that place
years pass as candles snuffed by the breeze
clouds moving across the face of the sun;
birthdays part of the mystery of living
notched on door frames marking our growth.

But would there be excitement at that growth
or frowns overshadow joyous expression
if we saw in advance truth about the living
and understood more about time and place
would we dance so freely in the sun
if we knew how fleeting was the breeze.

For each life stage passes with the breeze

that feathers every seasons' growth

from winter darkness to summer sun

a metaphor for all expression

as we move to each new place

to mark the phases of the living.

And as we celebrate the living

carried forth on endless breeze

appreciate each special place

that mark the milestones of our growth

the changing vista of expression 
beneath the guard of a watchful sun.

For every day we spend beneath the sun

we need to take joy in the living

childhood is but a brief expression

of the changing direction of the breeze

the days and years that count our growth

across the transience of place.