He was tired of the ordinary and he wanted something new.  
He wanted to hear the sound of the moon.  
He wanted to taste the tides.
     The sound of the cacti growing in the desert was like music to his ears,
but he could not remember anymore exactly just what it sounded like.  
He wanted to go back to when he did not have to remember
because he could hear it always,
but he could not go back.  

Time had put him where he was
and he could not turn back time, but it was not just a matter of that.
  He knew that somewhere he had lost his understanding of himself, and with it
his conception of the world
became skewed.  
He did not properly understand
the instrument with which he experienced the world
so he was not appropriately situated to judge what he experienced.  
Once he understands what he is
he sees his flaws.
he sees other things too.
    
The rays of the sun fell in a multitude of rays through the trees,
the canopies acting as a colander; taking up most of the rays
but allowing some to slip through
where small trees and shrubs seemed to congregate.
One of the rays fell on the boy
and as it did he opened his eyes
he was no longer a boy.