Fairytales
I wish I had been born in the days of
unicorns and dragons,
witches and ogres,
goddesses and gods.
Before all the travel of the world
leaving no sites un-plundered.
Before cellphones,
computers,
and television sets.
Even before radio.
The long winter evenings complete
with chilly winds and rattling windows.
To sit on the floor,
A fire the only light.
Listening to the original old grizzly fairytales,
or the myth of Prometheus.
To have the Iliad in oral tradition,
each teller crafting bits and pieces of themselves into the story.
The mystery of distant lands that most will never see.
To return to a time when man’s imagination
could make real the magic of the human heart.
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