Flame of Innocence
by Odin Roark

In the candlelight of dreams,
Such moments arrive unexpectedly,
A mere glimpse at first,
Realms of unfamiliar consciousness
Giving the child within visions of
Castle and warrior,
Princess and prince
Appearing from nowhere
Yet becoming dawn’s awakening everywhere.

Later…

Such innocence is kneaded and contained,
Placed in ovens of acquiescence,
Morphed into fraudulent truth,
Manipulated with history’s preservatives,
And ultimately sentenced to swelter
In the arid dysfunction of compromised mind.

Years pass.

More children became people-like,
Reducing mindscapes into desert,
Wasteland dunes from what could have been.

Imagination laments…

Forgotten childhood dreams
Make impotent time’s innate will
That keeping alive man’s most intimate gift.

Such is mankind’s ill-conceived habit,
Repression of youthful freedoms,
Cycling over and under,
Inverting, twisting, wringing its own potential lifeless,
Inviting yet more suffering,
Never the resolve to be.

If only we would remember…

The wink of fear knows how to smile,
Embrace adulthood’s exile,
Encourage self-loathing to lounge about,
Drink again from the cauldron of lost innocence,
That bubbling brew of denial,
Always remaining at the ready.

Sadly…

Many dip into the fermentation,
Sip, swill and gulp down adulthood’s intoxication,
Leaving behind the child within,
That candlelight only wishing to be remembered
And hopefully esteemed,
Before the breath of extinction
Smothers the flame.