And Then He Leapt

Age of Innocence

There once was a child who dreamt of a world,

        Where his soul was the wind and he danced and twirled,

In his mind he soared up above in the sky,

        With the birds and the stars, looking down from on high,

An artist with vision, he painted fearlessly,

        His hopes, his dreams, and his future destiny,

With words he did write, he authored worlds of wonder,

        A pirate on his ship full of gold he did plunder,

His life was full of magic and radiant charm,

        He saw only beauty, no threat of danger, no harm,

And the cattails did sway along the creeks that did flow,

        The boy in his boyhood, his soul all aglow.

Until one day, no longer did he play,

        Along with his toys, he stowed his magic away,

The stars stopped sparkling, animals no longer talked,

        His dreams and his hopes, in the closet he locked.

And he buried his soul in the sandbox of youth,

        Choosing the tribe’s path, forsaking his truth.

With time the child grew into a young man,

Every day a little further from his soul, how he ran.

His idealism transformed, he lost his innocence,

And realism emerged, informed by experience,

Hope faded away into weak wishful thinking,

And Love battled Fear, their swords now were clinking

And so, the boy became a distant memory.

Paradise Lost

Then, one morning, breathing the cool, crisp air,

        He heard a voice that was faint, but undeniably there:

“I am. I am here. I am waiting for you.

        I will teach you how to fly. Are you ready for the view?”

Who was that, who’s speaking, that inner voice, that knowing?

        It felt so familiar, as if his past was showing.

“Flying is for the birds and the world of make believe,

        But I am older, no more fantasy, that world I did leave.

The cat lost its lives, for curiosity only kills,

        To explore the unknown, is it worth the thrills?

Dreams are for sleeping, I have a life now to live,

        I can’t fly, I am sorry, but please do forgive.”

So, the young man began to build walls along his path,

        Security, stability, protecting against wrath,

Slowly, brick by brick, the higher the walls climbed,

        Alert and aware, his defenses were primed,

Straight and narrow his path, no room to wander,

        The proposal to fly, no longer did he ponder.

The more he built walls around his guarded boyish heart,

        The less attuned he was to the world once full of art,

And the weight of expectation and societal demand,

        No more whims, his life was structured, more rigid, more planned.

Every step became harder, his feet were now fettered,

        Still he thought with his walls, his life would be bettered.

Soon the sun was blocked and he lost all his vision,

        His thoughts grew uncertain, there was doubt, there was friction.

All the while he longed for the freedom he once knew,

        But he sacrificed the “now,” struggling to get through,

For a future he hoped might one day be worth it all,

        Alas, he fell from heaven, and into hell did he fall.

With time the young man became an adult,

And the ways of the world he began to exult.

Realism gave way to the experience of drama,

        Cynicism emerged from the darkness of the trauma,

Wishful thinking was lost and devolved into despair,

Fear struck down Love, “Be afraid,” it did declare.

And so, the boy was forgotten and lost.

Requiem

Until one morning, during a pause so rare,

He heard a whisper, so soft, but undeniably there:

“I am. I am here. I’m still waiting for you.

        I will teach you how to fly. Are you ready for the view?”

Who was that, who’s speaking, that inner voice, that knowing?

        It felt so familiar, lost with time as he was growing.

“I am scared. I am tired. I have tried my best,

        But the journey has been long and I need to rest.

To leave the path I have followed, to go journey out,

        I have so many questions and so much doubt.

Long have I sensed your eternal presence in me though,

        In the sunrise, in the flowers and when the wind did blow,

I remember, as a child, how I soared from above,

        My soul felt at peace, like a gentle white dove,

But I’ve clipped my wings and I’ve forgotten the way,

        And now I’m afraid of the monsters I must slay,

Change I desire, the world has lost its luster,

        Please help me, I pray for the courage I must muster.”

And suddenly, the heavens opened up the gray sky,

        Rain fell from above while tears he did cry,

The clouds, they grew darker and started to rumble,

        And suddenly the walls began to crack and crumble,

He tried to hold them up with all of his will,

        Afraid if they collapsed, his soul they would kill.

But the gods, with severe mercy, ignored all his pleas,

        His prayer they did honor and brought him to his knees.

The storm raged with fury, full of power and might,

        The sun, blocked by clouds, only darkness, no light.

The man, he was dying, certain all would be lost,

        He desired freedom but didn’t understand the full cost.

After the storm, a scream pierced through the air,

        “I can’t do this,” he yelled, “It’s more than I can bear.”

There was nothing left to lose, he walked through the rubble,

        His life was destroyed, the gods pierced his bubble.

And then he sat on the ground where he finally released

        The man who he thought he was, now deceased.

With time the grown man surrendered to life,

        Cut open and exposed by a celestial knife.

Cynicism gave way to detachment, he was jaded,

        Lost in the storm, his hopes and dreams now faded.

Broken he was, the world around him crashed down,

        But Fear was dethroned and had finally lost its crown.

        And so, the man was defeated leaving only the boy.

Renaissance

And then, one morning, in response to his prayer,

        He felt a voice all around him, undeniably there:

“I am. I am here. I have been waiting for you.

        I will teach you how to fly. Are you ready for the view?”

Who was that, who’s speaking, that inner voice, that knowing?

        It felt so familiar, his life force started flowing.

“I trust you, I will follow, don’t let me hit the ground,

        The storm was so brutal, I almost nearly drowned.

But I’m trying to find faith, I am trying to listen,

        My life starts anew, my soul, will you christen?

Guide me and provide, please show me how to fly,

        The world as it could be, full of hope, draws nigh.”

And with time, the clouds parted, the sun started to rise,

        A mere glimmer of light, so soft on his eyes.

Alone in the ruins, he surveilled all around him,

        Nothing left, it was time, to step out on a limb.

He paused for a moment before he took that last step,

        Childhood dreams he remembered, he smiled, and then he leapt.