Neverland

Little white cotton balls

Floating as if by magic in a sea of similarity.

I sail just above them, gazing at a vessel of tin

That I see as the Jolly Rodger. 

The view below of vines ravaging the ground.

For a moment, I wonder what it is like to fly

To soar aimlessly with a childish delight, like Pan.

Do I fall in love with the novel, like others before I did?

With the adventure, the youth, the Pirates, the Mermaids, the Lost Boys?

Oh Peter, do the boys need a new mother?

“Second Star to the Right and Straight on ‘Till Morning”,

Yes Peter I would love to accompany you, away to Neverland.

But there is one problem with our journey, a claim of no more pixie dust.

There is also no more faith, and no more trust, no way to get home.

Do you withhold this so I will forever be yours in a land of eternal childhood?

But children do get older Pan, and I know you fear aging.

Does your Wendy-bird still sing delicately enough?

You named me a lark when I wanted to be a stork.

Soaring high above the clouds, you took my hand.

But I am the bane of your shadow, the never-ending light.

My Nana calls me home, Peter, a flicker in a nursery.

I speak no promises, and beg you to lead me home.

With no delight, you oblige, unfaithful yet trustworthy again,

Characteristics of a little boy with no yearn to be a man.

Even though you murdered the idea of Neverland, I do not blame you.

I go where the wind takes me, setting sail on the horizon.

Everything grows richer with age, Peter. 

And then I realize, my eternal riches will never be enough.

The dust has settled and the stories withheld,

A child’s plight satisfied, but it’s time I grow up.

I shall treasure the memories of it always,

And you, my dearest and cleverest Peter Pan,

Please always remember your Wendy-bird.