We all have a child still dancing within us.
I wonder how old we tend to be when we silence that child. When we forget how to have fun, smile, play with strangers without asking their names, play with them despite not speaking their language. How old were we when we ran, not to catch the bus or because we were late, but just to see how fast our little legs could make us fly.
We were all too young when we silenced our inner children. It’s always too young to do it.
My children coax out the child in me, help me let go of my cynicism and remind me of the wonders of every day. Often, I’m not sure if the poems I write under this hat, should fall under Mother or Child, they seem to be two faces of the same coin.