Galloping in lush sultry fields of sun kissed flowers
splayed out on the grounds of ancestors longingly
searching for remnants of pieces shattered
when winter came to take life away on wings
of silver moon dust to undiscovered treasure
coves deep beneath the sapphire blue and
emerald greens of an ocean made of dreams.

As the tide rolled in upon the Earth’s gravity
came the rush of ecstasy when those lost
pieces came together to form the most
perfect puzzle solved like the pinpoints of stars
when connecting them to create astrological
symbols of zodiac signs then to realize you
were staring upon the wrong set of stars all along. 

And yet the imagination comes to rescue its child
giving life to inanimate objects and secret friends
of different stories to play along to the feelings
of the host to dull the sense of loneliness that
envelopes the soul when lost in a big world
without the love needed to sustain a life smaller
and weak in the eyes of nature’s troubles.

 For one moment all the magic in the world
seems to be real and as true as that treasure
cove out in the deep vast mind of any child
who sees the world with open eyes that tell them
all they need to know in this life filled with shades
of gray and voids of passion and interest in the
simple pleasures we all used to be familiar with.

Playing with imaginary creatures hiding in that
lush field and running as if life itself depends on it
we find the cold grip of the once beautiful world
grasping magic by the throat and strangling it
till all the love felt in those days has drifted off
and found root in a desert with the other old stuffed
animals and makeshift forts that seemed to disappear.

Spinning around and clicking heels together in
one last attempt to return to days of enchantment
in a world that has slowly killed the one thing that
makes happiness feel more real and more intense
than growing older and wiser ever could can never be
redeemed after one has forgotten the magic and has
turned away from the childlike ways of imagination.