Dear Childhood Self,

The giants surround you

Filling you with feeling

But what feeling?

Wonder, excitement, joy.

Half a mile of red.

The paint the town kind.

Tumble through

The needles underfoot

With a satisfying crunch

See the colors and spaces.

Meadows and dark hiding places.

A fallen giant to stand over.

another impaled, leaning

Wounded in a giant’s sword fight.

Find the root, tangles

Going up, sprouting out

High above your head.

Hide within a giant,

A grand place to sit,

To play and shock.

Meet the sentinels.

The circle of five perfect

For climbing and perching.

Feeling sky high up there

Five feet off the ground.

Give a helping hand,

Room for a friend or two

To giggle and watch.

To feel like a giant.

Loop around and around.

Finding new things and places,

To play or discover.

Fallen playthings or fuzzy moss,

A hidden creek, a tiny meadow.

New giants to face, to befriend,

To revel the wonders of life.

Throughout the years, centuries

These giants have stood

Playground and playmate

To all who wander the wood.

Dear Childhood Self,

Don’t lose your sense

Of wonder and wander.