Reawakening the Creative Child Within (A Poem)

When we’re young, the world is our oyster.
Hurt and humiliation are two things we don’t fear.
Imagination is our kingdom and every moment counts.
Ah yes, when we’re young, creativity abounds.

As we grow up they say, “Fall in line!
Get good grades! Be on time!
Find a job! Pay your bills!”
All things that stifle creative wills.

When we’re young, our sense of presence lasts.
There’s no anxiety about the future. No dwelling in the past.
It’s this innate presence that lets our creative juices flow
but we block it and build dams around it every year we grow.

Now I can hear the sound, traveling through your eyes
of broken dreams and emptiness
as your inner child cries,

“Gimme ink and paper, crayons, brushes, and blank space.
Gimme songs to sing and lightening bugs to chase.
Gimme wood to carve, clay to mold, and games to play.
I’m jumpy and I’m restless. Can I come out today?”


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