Views and Variations
I remember when the sky was mine—
when stars were seeds and clouds were maps
and I could grow wings out of sidewalk chalk.
He believed in castles, in creatures,
in kindness without caution.
She colored the future in candy tones
and carried joy like a lantern.
Some dreams faded.
Some changed shape.
Some whispered themselves quiet
in the hush of growing up.
But that light never left him. Or her.
Or me.
Or you.
It flickers in joy,
it stirs in stillness,
it dances when we dare to imagine again.
This is the Storyteller of Childhood Dreams—
a keeper of caterpillars,
a weaver of wonder,
a gentle reminder
that the love behind the dream
was never make-believe.
