These Are My Friends

As I grow weary from a tiresome schedule, I find myself turning to my old friends on a regular basis. Comforting, curious and intrepid, my friends never cease to make me smile. They remind me of the days when my hair was wild and untamed and I wore short dresses so I could feel the cool kiss of wind on my upper thighs. Days spent searching for the perfect daisy to place on my father's desk when he got home from work. Days that seemed to last forever. Days that ended with crickets chirping as the sun set and my mother called: 'dinner time!' prompting me to run as fast as I could to eat with my little sister and maybe steal some of her french fries when she wasn't looking.

One of my friends loves to sleep. He enjoys the lusciousness of life, taking time to relish in the sweet luxuries of nature and doze off dreamily in mossy gardens with ethereal sunlight dripping on his massive frame. My other friend, perhaps as big as the palm of the first's foot, is adventurous and loving. She runs through the forest with reckless abandon, not caring that she still wears a diaper. My other friend is savvy. Cool, calm, collected, she takes care of us when we feel weak or small. Her heart is bigger than a camphor tree and she would do anything for the ones she loves.

So as the days get more and more filled with adult-type responsibilities,  I find I need my childhood friends more than ever. The keep me grounded while allowing me the freedom to dream up magical, mysterious things--they will always lift me up.