Reflecting

I stumbled upon a slight bit
of the past I call my own today.
looking back I see what my naive
young eyes and heart were blind to.
It is so strange to think
that I thought myself mature
I thought myself wise
I thought myself unbreakable.
But that was then.
And now?
I am not wise
nor mature
nor unbreakable.
I am still a child in my own eyes
steeped in folly
and oh so fragile.
It is only now that I see
things for what they really were
the wolf disguised as my dear granny
and me standing
wise staring with my basket of goodies.