Remembering them
He just ran. So excited about what he didn’t know beyond the stoney path before the woodland. He just ran. Wondering which tree was his tree. Wondering what new adventure was about to happen.
How much could he slip inside the real world and find its secrets. When would they finally reveal themselves to him.
He could climb a tree, burrow into a hole, fly and swing.
There would always be that place. That real place with logs and a pool. Always ascending from above and sitting. Just sitting. Watching. Waiting. Feeling the bark on his finger tips.
One day they’d let on. Knowing his deepest most feelings of loneliness and knowing that they too were part of him.
He’d learn one day how to let them out but for now, his desire to hold them close, to bring them near, to have them so badly. He’d forgotten how to let them in. Only with time would he remember.
It’s the worst of it. To leave one world with a promise never to forget, and to forget. To long for what once was and to not understand how to get it back.
There is no back. Only forward. Re-united with those ones again would only come when he remembered.
And when they returned, all manner of joy would be experienced. They’d laugh and joke, run and dance in the fire light. The ocean would call to them and to it they’d leap.
One day he’d stay but not today. It’s not time. And so he’d leave again upon a promise to remember.
He’d remember forever one day. For now. He forgets.
