The Lost Children I

You smile too much you lost children, you must not know that you are lost, too naïve to see that every adventure has a return path, that eventually the land under your feet will run out and all that remains is the endless blue above and below. Can you fly child, can your breath air through the water? No child, no-one can, it is impossible. But you don’t believe it. You make no response, do not refute the claim, you only stare into the blue, with a look of one who believes anything is possible, who believes that in order to prove that something is not impossible that it only has to be done once. You do not understand. I once thought this too until I learnt what an anomaly is – a mere blip in the rules of the world that are set, a momentary loss of consciousness that allowed a singular mistake to remind us to be always vigilant.
“Why do you look out and say nothing, offer no argument or tell me I’m wrong child?”
“Because you are not wrong yet.”
“But you believe I am.”
“No, I believe that soon you will be.”
“But if that is true child, then why delay an inevitable conclusion? Is it because you fear that you may not be right?”
“You do not give up on your life, or consider it to be finished simply because your death lies ahead. So I do not abandon the truths I have simply because I know that there end will soon come.”
I see the lost children disappearing into the forest to do nothing and claim to be changing the world. They do it with such energy with such joy as if they know something that others do not, as if they have found the truth that is hidden from the others, as if they are the first to feel this way. But they all come home, heavy eyed, to the homes they left and continue on with the lives that they were trying to run away from. They are trying always to find never-never land, without seeing that in the name it tells them already that it cannot be found. Never was, never will be, for we must all grow old.