This poem was inspired by Alison Nappi’s poem: An Open Love Letter to Your Inner Child
Your story took my age away and I became six again.
It sucked the breath out of my lungs
Replacing it with looks of befuddlement
That I got from grown-ups when I tried to explain
how I saw things or
what I saw and when.
An adult would often correct me
Explaining how it appeared in their world,
but magic existed before I knew it
before it claimed the runes of mystical auras.
I want to write this love letter to my six year old self
but not like this,
similar but with different color crayons
and different paper,
maybe bark or finger paints.
As I look through the eyes of my youth
I see what I saw then clearly
That crack in the sidewalk didn’t exist
as much as it was the seaside beach
where fairies lived and robins played.
I was taught that my visions were faulty
So I quit trusting them, I quit believing I understood things
I doubted what my spirit knew as absolute
I thought I was wrong for thinking in shapes or
pictures that had words labeled on them, but did not define them.
I heard you.
I’m so glad you remembered me
Way back then when mud pies were important and dolls drove matchbox cars.