Dreamer

One day, not so long ago, for the age of the world,

Was a boy.

He was encouraged to dream; to pretend.

His parents were unaccustomed to balance education, so then thought little of over indulging a creative mind into the world of illusion.

The boy became entranced with the notion that if you wished hard enough, anything would come true.

He and his friends labored on a make believe air plane, its purpose was to take them to Disneyland.  They discussed in detail all the exploits they would have once they had completed their air ship.  They talked about going to the bank and withdrawing their precious savings.  They would land in the parking lot at the theme park and walk casually to the entrance while people around them would marvel at how just kids made this craft that would take them anywhere they wanted, on a whim.

They would wile away the day hammering boards together on their mimic of a plane.  They attached bicycle seats in a row along the makeshift fusel lodge in the order of where each wanted to take in the view during their voyage.  No one had been elected to fly the craft, for they had agreed magic would take it to its assigned destination; so all of them would just sit in their seats and enjoy the flight. It was possible.  They saw it on Peter Pan.

Suddenly from the garage around the house, a roar from a car engine caught their attention.  One of his friends, the boy whose house they were building their contraption, had an older brother who was an ancient teenager.  And as many young adolescent males do, this one became enthralled with muscle cars.  So the engine revved many times. As it continued each of the boys caught a sense of magical foretelling that the plane was ready to take off.  In last minute haste, each drove their last nails into the wood, drop their hammers and rushed to their seats in anticipation of taking off any second.

The engine shrieked.

The boys eagerly stuffed their limbs into the small wire cages.

Room, room, room the car seemed to gain volume and frequency in exact accord with the boys mounting excitement.

The dreamer could feel his scalp tingle with the focused belief as his conviction commanded that now was the time for dream's delivery. He believed with every fiber of his entire seven year old existence. 

Then truth was delivered. 

The teenagers saw the youngsters and laughed with great amusement at those 'nutty kids'. 

Eventually the motor fell silent, as the young boys stayed frozen in their seats for several minutes; hoping against hope that flight would somehow still happen. 

Nothing.

Eventually one lad mentioned that they had done something wrong, that they hurried and it was too soon.

Another agreed.

A third stood up and got out of his cage, a signal the game had concluded.

The fourth mentioned it was time to go home to dinner, the sun was setting.

One by one the sullen boys departed.  The dreamer was stunned into quiet.  He did not have the gut energy to argue, to persuade. Too dumbfounded to reason or cajole any other into remaining, to pour their belief into the collective pot that would lift their inert boards into the sky taking them like a magic carpet, off to see the world.  It was at that tender age he realized that belief would only take you so far.  And to be totally immersed in a dream had a cost when it wasn't delivered.  It'd be near five decade before this dreamer would dare to welcome its enchanting quality to return and claim him.  It arrived in the form of a love like no other; beyond description.  She would look at him with her soft eyes, and he'd be calmed by a sense of acceptance and understanding.  The fear and despair that replaced hope when a soul had been disappointed, would in that moment quietly dissolve, allowing the sun into his heart again.  

Her quiet love was the light that would invite him to take up the path with renewed vigor. And in his realization that went beyond reason, he would laugh at the prolonged absence.  He was amused at feeling young once more; No harm done.