Sidewalk chalk, Salamanders and Swings,
These are children's things,
Our childhood is pure, white as snow,
Things change as we grow.
Scraping of knees is no longer the definition of pain.
Innocence leaves us just to spite.
I guess it is better this way,
Our knowledge expanding day by day.
Promise me though you will not lose faith,
In the fantastical creatures who used to be our mates
The Fairies who take flight
The Apples that will Poison with a bite
The Houses made from Sweets,
The Animals who could speak,
The many people who You could be in an Hour.
Belief will be Your power.
The Wanderlust of Life
Is it just because This is something new?
Or is It something more?
It is scaring me, is It scary to You?
We are landing on an unfamiliar shore,
Our spirits bursting, on Our face a smile,
Their voices full of welcome, and cheer,
But will This all be worth Our while?
Once we venture out, there is no coming back Here,
Promise me now, that This is love!
Or tell me that It is lust,
Or, confirm my fears, is it only part of growing up?
Nothing now is certain, Except This peregrination is upon us.