There was a boy with big dreams.
He wanted to be an astronaut / rodeo clown/ superhero.
He turned a ratty old towel into a cape.
He was pretty sure he could fly.
He was pretty sure he could move mountains.
Impossible wasn’t an obstacle.
Play was his priority.
He ran through fields of wide open imagination.
He spent hours staring into the clouds, seeing dragons and castles and stock cars.
He played the kazoo and told corny jokes.
But, real life snuck in like a thief and stole the cape and the dreams of the boy.
Somehow, the child disappeared in the jungle of expectations.
His heart was stomped on, promises were broken.
His soul became like an empty tube of toothpaste as the imagination was squeezed out.
He was told to behave…get in line…conform…grow up…be strong…be a man.
He was told, by people he trusted, that his worth was found in his work.
So he worked.
He stopped staring at clouds,
The boy got left out in the cold.
The child was unwelcome in a grown up world full of grown up things.
He sadly became another missing child…
Lost in the pursuit of the perfect.
I remember the boy…
His mischievous memory speaks to my psyche like the picture of a dirty face on a milk carton box asking “Have you seen me?”
So I look for the boy in the man…
When I find him, I pray it’s not too late.
I will play a silly song on the kazoo.
I will throw him a ratty old towel.
I will tell him a corny joke and point at a cloud castle in the sky…
Hopefully a little nonsense will bring him back to his senses.
And, he will come out and play again.
carbonated joy 