wanting and
waiting and
wishing on stars and
splashing in puddles and
dreaming and
hoping and
the magic of childhood that you couldn’t see at the time
but always enveloped you, whispering in a voice you couldn’t hear
“it’s okay,”
as you sat next to butterflies, your original plan to catch one
floating away with the slick summer breeze
as you see their gilded and
purple and
bright, thin, fragile wings
fluttering gently
shh, you say to the world around you, warning it not to disturb the beauty
and as you gather as many of those flowers as you can
flowers a dusky purple that fade into the night
they dance in the wind that is as soft as your old blanket and
as warm as a cup of sweet lemon tea and
as comforting, welcoming, loving as a mothers touch
shouting to you to pick them, pick them
as they wave to you with their leaves drip, drip, dripping with dew
before you knew what the color green was
what did you think of the grassy fields that stretched into the sun-soaked horizon
before you knew how to describe that dog
what did you think of his fur against your cheek as you breathed shallowly so you wouldn’t upset him
before you knew those tall, swaying, covered-in-pink-things as trees
what did you think of their majesty and
their color and
their rough, scratchy, textured limbs
stretching into the sky
like they couldn’t
reach
far enough
now you say “it’s just a flower,” to the excited child making the crowns with the blooming stems they pick
now you say “don’t scare the butterfly,” to the little boy who isn’t scaring it at all
now you say “get your head out of the clouds,” to the little girl imagining herself into her favorite fairy tale
when you should be telling them
not to lose their magic
that everything is beautiful
that they can have as many imaginary friends as they want
that they should treat everything as the precious and
wonderful and
amazing, interesting, magical things they are
“but they might as well adjust to the real world, because they can’t stay kids forever,” you say
but wasn’t it great while it lasted?
don’t you want the wistful and
hopeful and
bright, happy, excited children
to see the beauty in the world for as long as they can
because, like you said,
they can’t stay kids forever
but it would be so nice if they could
