When we were young,
The backyard was our world.
Everyday was spent outside;
Rain, hail or shine.
To us,
The backyard was a new reality everyday.
The backdoor was a gateway to new dimensions.
Each day was a new adventure;
We would go on a jungle safari,
Travel to outer space,
Or even fight for our lives in a war.
As we got older though,
We played in the backyard less and less.
Our adventures became less daring,
Less exhilarating and bizarre.
One day we woke up and decided we were just too old for the backyard.
We were too mature for childish games and whims.
And so the backyard was forgotten,
Left alone and empty.
Many years later,
As I was about to leave home,
I looked out the window;
At the backyard that used to be filled with light and laughter.
It was now just a cold, desolate place.
There was no more life,
No other dimensions, just an old patch of brown grass and a long-abandoned swing set.
I dropped my bags,
And walked out the backdoor,
Just as we used to do.
Except, I wasn't transferred to another world,
The magic was no-longer there.
The backyard had grown up just like was had.
Only, it grew too fast,
Died too early.
Sitting on an unmoving swing,
I re-awaken the memories,
Resurrect the ghosts of the past.
Translucent children,
Running around a young backyard,
In my mind’s eye,
A world of our own.
I want the magic back.
I want to travel away.
Slowly a wisp of magic curls up,
Wrapping itself around me.
Tearing a seam in my memories,
Through it, I can see the magic.
Reaching out to grasp it,
My fingers pass through it,
Sweeping it away forever.
And I am left in the old backyard,
Where magic used to grow,
And children would imagine and play.
The backyard is too old for magic now, and I am too.
