In the precious heads of children,
Is a forest deep and vast.
A sprawling land called Imagination
That begins to vanish as time goes past.

The years go by and the child has grown,
The majestic woods now reduced to a garden.
Creative suppression imposed by the world,
Has caused the man’s heart to harden.

An adult now in the corporate world,
His thoughts are dominated by logic and reason.
Any trace of the magic he once saw around him,
Has become a faint shadow fading more by the season.

There are some exceptions, however, some wonderful souls,
Whose forests remain wild and untamed.
In their minds roam the faeries and dragons of Old,
In their minds the magic of life is sustained.

They see enchantment in things most take for granted;
How the owl sweeps and glides or how the moon rules the tide.
In their hearts they hold close a most beautiful treasure,
For in them resides the young child that survived.