Imagination

This was written in 2015 at some point but I never finished it. Someday maybe…=

As children we have the ability to dream give us a cardboard box or just a little cubbyhole somewhere in the couch cushions and we lay back and imagine palaces, grand homes or magical places that don’t exist in the real world.

As we grow older our time to dream goes away, our ability to lose ourselves in our imaginations disappears. We start in those happier places as children but when can we point to where we grow old? When do we forget that we dreamed?

I am 50 years old now and I try so hard to think back to those magical time when I was able to let my mind go to places that never existed. I still try to find that place in my heart where only magic exists.