There is this feeling when you are running as a child. This feeling of super powers and greatness.
The moon talks to you, as does any insect. It seems odd that an adult cannot understand this.
When you look at the dirt, creativity seems natural. Why would anyone want to move away from the magical muddy growing space? A blade of grass holds a whole new universe, lie down for a while and look at it for as long as you choose. It will sit with you.
When music comes on, move just the way it sounds to your ears. The only style that exists is your style.
I once watched a girl in the grass. She was talking to something in the earth. Her voice like a fairy moving up and down. Boredom didn't happen for her. She was one of the extra lucky ones who knew
how to see beyond. Her imagination let her live in a world freer than ours.
I saw a boy leaping on the beach. His arms waved wildly over his head and he was laughing at his own silliness. He was he. The maker of fun.
I remember lying in bed, looking out my window. I saw Jesus float down and say hello. I was just at that age where you are no longer sure you can share what you see. Yet I still remember smiling at him and saying “hi”.
How I wish for each of you to know again. To know how fun it is to just be you. You knew you were the incredible, you knew you were powerful and you knew how to play with “nothing”.