trials of time

innocence lost of youth, of childhood splendor of ignorance, of bliss a smile; enchantment from a twig, crunchy sounds emanate, whistling happily friendships an idea monumental - dizzy me spinning over and over, faster than earth's rotation, like a ballerina, faster with wings taking off - to heaven's know where. knock knock. surprise, even a fall is novelty, i fell laughing, the world chided not, a smack felt personal, quickly brushed off: i've got a bit of marble, a bit of grass, a bit of petals care to see? washed again in bubbles. not popping. suds. soap and all, wonder in a cave, wonder of the mind, then came awareness, loss, stakes, pain that dug, dug into bones, into heart. love lost, love rejected, scorned, ridiculed, a bully's playbook: got ya now! a fall, a splash, wonder replaced with anger, hurt, embarrassment, how easy it is to be a bully when a multitude overpowers, dig, dig, into silent space, echoes back wonder now popped. soap suds no longer slippery, playfulness subsides, the adults answer with half filled glasses, and cracked stories. it's illogical, nonsensical, but always silence. ah that troublesome one, that problem. that. mediocre adults pretending, it works, when everyone is in on it. no cracks when denial becomes faith. fall. drop, silence again. i suppose no one really did have the answers, just a way of living, a tide, a wave, like religion, did you hear god? clatter, clatter, a spread of 5, i can tell your fortune, the tarot reader said: works. it worked. that's demonic some said, others applauded, one takes cash, the other belief strong. confidence reaches for the sky, i know said the unicorn to the dragon, all about that hidden cave. who knew better. stayed silent. the same gimmick, tides, waves, eroded a mountain unable to bear faithful onslaught disguised as nature. it's a fine sounding word erases all wrong doing, my nature, your nature, bleeding in one empty tank. hello, hello, is anyone there? and all i heard were scripts, more scripts, more rehearsals, but that wonder, that bubble that stood solid, falls, from my tight clenching fist, bits of grass, bits of marble, bits of memory descending on wet earth - unable to rekindle a fire. flat. insipid. cool. scripted. a dragon finally showed me his lament: of stolen dreams, gold and dust, and a unicorn failed to deliver a rainbow promise when beliefs, confidence struck lightning. what's there to say really? and dragons hunted for lost dreams, unicorns looked to fulfill promises, as for the mountain, waves and clouds, nature called. nature rebuked. nature started a fire. up above, it looked like a glow, then a circle, a gigantic ball hurtling itself towards promises, lost dreams, gold and dust; is this the end? a reminder, nature chided, a warning, a harbinger, tsk, tsk - a script replaced of dreams and promises, now who wrote that? mythical beast, chasing the wind, burned by fire. seeing, hearing, sensing. feeling. as dust, gold and idols fell, a shout, a scream, an awakening, a yell, a thunder, boom. a fire rekindled, a flame soared, like the sun, when fist loosened. dragon and unicorn faded back to the mist, nature wept, the sea churned, a soul, a spirit, a heart, fire, fire, fire - where is your sting? a soul, a spirit, a heart mythical, fantastical, ridiculous, and so very alive.