the lost joys

arika dum samech lifundra lipek, duruum spahet aushecken lamech.
sachrach hajen, limphoro hikseth-thomech maleoro shajem.
ishlamel lundrom hafetshi joh-eth, hish romel landruum akira lipek?
lando hiketh semporro scarem, ethrefan tomshoot morehii sen.

i wonder where it is, that my imaginations have gone, as my mind slowly fills of the cold hard truths that being an adult requires? i miss those days when people would fly, when i would will feathers out of my skin and beams of light would shoot out of my fingers. i miss those days when the wind would follow my beckoning, and the sun and the moon would heed to my every call. i miss those days when i could speak a thousand languages, of ancient words that only the great ancients could understand. i miss those days when my mind would connect with the cosmos, when it communes uninterrupted to the unlimited wisdom reposed in the universe.

fleeting are those days, the glorious days of my childhood, the willingness to believe in the unlimited possibilities of how everything unreal can be realized by just believing.

i would sometimes find myself stroking the air in front of me, feeling it like water and visualizing ripples caused by my disturbance. i would see eddy currents form, echos of my finger-strokes, slicing through its invisibility. it's a beautiful sight, like oil paisleys floating in water. i wished i could gather them, touch them, and then have other people also see, the beauty of my creating, the sight of seeing the unseen.

i would feel its weight in my hand as i clasp tightly on the hilt, its mirror blade dragging across the asphalt, as i walk home every morning from my jog. people would watch me closely as my right hand drops on my side, my wrist pointing down as i try to tuck it in, beyond anyone passing by for surely, it would be strange that they would stumble over an invisible sword. i feel the texture of the hide tightly wound on its grip, the bejeweled pommel and the star trapped within. he was a shooting star caught many eons ago, now dwelling inside my sword, powering its magic.

you loose something, the older you get. i think i am just realizing now that i may just have lost too much.