Youth Magic | Teen Ink

Youth Magic MAG

By Anonymous

   Multi-colored jewels carpet the long green blades of grass

reaching like arms slowly toward the sky.

As if in a party, fallen leaves mingle

among an endless playground.

Now round the leaves up like soldiers.

Lead them single file up the hill to battle under the command

of general rake.

Line up rough and tough men

to the sound of the drum roll,

and prepare them to fight, kill, and die for their country.

Gunshots echo through the air

as blood drips off the wounded leaves streaked

with veins scampering in every which way

and dotted with a stem.

They all patiently wait for an eager child.

Be blind to the real world as far as war.

Remember, a child has only experienced

battles between leaves.

A blank mind about guns, bombs, wounds, and deaths.

Be an innocent soul

who has the power to make leaves become

something they're not.

Run, jump, dive, topple over, and somersault

with energy, speed, and excitement,

face coated with smiles and happiness

into what will feel like a soft, fluffy cloud in heaven.

Sculpt them swiftly

into a colorful palace of joy.

Use small pudgy fingers to grab

at rubies, emeralds and contentment.

Those fingers belong

to a youngster with many years ahead of him.

Like Michelangelo, hurriedly sprinkle and carve,

making the pile the perfect size and shape.

As the final leaf has been topped off

like a red cherry on a sundae to

this monstrous fort,

grin and prepare for flight

off a low hanging branch of a dark brown aged oak.

Like a diver in a race,

assume starting position, never losing possession

of those sparkling little dimples.

A bullet shooting out of a gun

as you soar through the air

into a crunchy mattress full of satisfaction.

Strong sturdy bones

prevent the magical grin from turning to a frown.

Smiling, spring up.

Let a tingly sensation of cheerful shivers

flow through your spirit.

Now

shrink.

Become a child again.

Let go of worries.

Let go of knowledge that might be harmful

to youth.

Is it really impossible

to recapture childhood?

Or is it just

in the mind?





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