It's thought quite excellent for humankind
eyes closed, to pause and stretch the mind;
The seahorse gambols off into the skies
and disappears. The scholar sighs,
then smiles, picks up his book and pen
and turns to the mundane affairs of men,
still wondering which moment is
the wiser use of time.
Ohho! I'll rove where unicorns
will flash their horns, while jaded ones
retreat to nurse their joints and corns,
to dream of wonder sophistry may lack.
It teaches me to prize the wisdom,
the necessity of frequent visits back
to childhood--there where chimera cavort,
where monsters sport monstrosities
and dragons spew their fire.
There I may exercise my memory,
homemade cape to take the air
behind my head, while
I upon my speeding bike again
as Captain Braverider declare
destruction to the dastardly
who dare to venture from their evil den
and flaunt their vile intent.
I think we need it all,
even the ridicule we may incur.
We need, at times, a shaking
of our pride of intellect,
a rest, a relaxation from the pedestal
of triumph that we leap upon,
usually to assure ourselves
that we are most important;
we need to know how false
that really is.
I'll join the unicorns once more,
rush through sandtraps on my bike,
if only in my mind. I'll draw the lagline,
risk again the marbles in my stash,
look up with love to see that girl
(my fourth-grade crush) pass by
along the sidewalk--yes, it is
the sustenance of manhood
that I feed upon
and cannot do without--nor can we all.
Preserve the fantasy;
hug it to your breast
lest you then find yourself
among the breathless ones on pedestals
who closed their eyes to dreams.