Sun Under the Water

I remember when the woods were at our fingertips dears

They whispered so many tales

Of legends of valor, falling so gently on our ears.

Treading softly in the vales

“Onwards!” they would laugh at us as we ran among shadows

Through the paths we’d wend our ways

Down in ancient, olden haunts where the wind would dance below

Across the rocks, moss would laze

All that mattered was how long the sun would shine in the sky

And that lying was a sin

I can’t remember when we knew we would never die

Everything was simple then

Oh how the golden light would bless our innocent displays!

Those lost times have yet been found

And I can’t help but mourn that you will never see that phase…

Many a year has unwound

Since how we used to wile away hour after hour

In streambeds deep, trees high and low

Playing whether it was sunshine or clouds, ice or shower

Yes, I know when our world was so

Alright the title of this is seemingly unrelated to the poem yes? Well sorta; in context yes they are unrelated, but that was kind of what I was going for. This poem is extremely nostalgic for me as it pretty much sums up the degree of wonder of my childhood. And maybe it's even a little nostalgic for other people too, at any rate I'm prattling. Like everyone in the world gets nostalgic about something at some point, and I imagine I'm not the only one who feels this great bubbly kind of ache when I get like that. What I'm trying to get at is that I don't remember all of my childhood, heck I probably don't even remember half of it. But I regard it as a whole with a hazy kind of golden fog over it. Sort of how sunlight looks when you're looking up at it through water. Catch my drift? It's warm and pure and so, so bright and scattered. I hope I'm not the only one who thinks that, and if I am and this whole commentary doesn't make a lick of sense to you? Well I've always said I'm kinda weird :). Anyway I'm done rambling, sorry I'm a bit verbose sometimes.