New Voice

young

i sit down on a bench under the tree,
holding a book in one hand,
a cup of tea in the other.
i gaze up at the beautiful scenery,
wondering why it's my first time here.
i watch the kids play and run and jump
and wish i could join them.
oh how awkward it would be;
one adult and many kids playing together.
how scared they would be
if a stranger approached them
and asked to join them in their games.
"grown ups are not supposed to play," one of them would mutter, 
and i wouldn't know how to respond.
"it's our bodies that age. our souls don't," i would answer back,
secretly doubting the words that had just come out of my mouth.
it's a lie;
our souls have grown old.
we lost our sense of wonder.
we lost our playful nature.
we follow rules.
we have stopped our minds from painting pictures of unfamiliar worlds.
i wish i could have traveled as a child
to a land
where our souls would stay the same.
our brain would generate a dozen questions per hour.
our hearts were bigger than the earth.
our eyes twinkled like the brightest stars.
if only.