reclaiming wonder

a return to wild imagination

My writing has been in a bit of a rut lately. I have been writing from the place in my head where my loudest critic lives. I wrote this poem for myself this morning as an invitation to start letting my imagination hold the pen for a little bit.

I want to write with a little more childlike wonder.

It’s time for me to let my inner eight-year-old draw on the walls of my heart for a bit in permanent marker.

---

when I was a child 
my parents thought I  
was losing my little mind 

because I would sing with 
the clouds and chatted up 
every tree that I climbed

my imagination had no ceiling
and my vivid daydreaming 
always kept me awake 

I could create a new planet
of seven-eyed purple giants 
while eating Frosted Flakes

everything was a wonder
as long as I lived outside of
the growing buzzing of my head 

the mirror would be a camera
for my make-believe sitcom and my 
pirate ship was also my bed