We grow backwards in time.
Dream up fantasies as children
about the different paths we could take.
A restlessness to grow up
To be something. To be someone.
Doctors, Lawyers, Engineers, Pilots
Astronauts, Biologists, Travelers
Treasure hunters, Teachers, Farmers
Drivers and Gas station owners.
A world of pretend play in there.
And yet, nothing changes in years.
About us. About the urge to dream.
We are all something in that list
but our eyes are set on the distance.
All the way into the past
To the elements of childhood.
With a mnemonic telescope
we reach farther to our origins.
Past offers us such a leisure
in a continuous chase by future.
Suddenly we burst into
a conversation with ourselves.
We giggle at some memory
lingering in a spot
untouched by time.
Many places from the past
which never closed down.
Like our eyes set on the distance.