Chasing Pirates and a boy named Pan.

I have been waiting on Peter Pan to rescue me for years. Ahh yes, the whimsy fairy tale whispers of an ageless green super hero, swashbuckling his way into my window and extending a hand of responsibility freedom.  In my bed I lay, under a credit card purchased, debt ridden duvet cover enveloping me in my "grown up" existence.  On certain evenings, my determined sales pitch becomes even more severe; I bargain.  Yes it's true, I bargain with my man in green, "look Pete, I will gladly assist in leading a lost boys adventure or upkeep on fort maintenance if you just come and take me away".  I would even risk my own hand at the sight of said tick tocking crocodile.  But, to no avail.  He does not appear, nor does his shadow.....even the glimmer of a tinker fairy and her dust are not seen. All that exists night after night is me, in my bed, with the darkness and my thoughts to occupy time until I drift off into dizzy dreaming.
A boy named Pan.  A place called Never Never Land.  A fairy and her wings.  A captain with a hook.  A lagoon of mermaids and lost boys with swords.  I ask you, revisit this place.  We were all there once, in our youthful wonder.  We lived a life of innocence and possibility, where losing your shadow could exist and time stood still.  Our adventures were based on rocks, caves, construction paper and mud pies.  Our dreams and emotion held steady through our thirst filled eyes, delight and laughter were our dearest friends.
I miss this.  I do.  I still try in my adult path to grasp on to the happiness of life, holding tight and swinging from vine to vine.  There is truly a youthful beauty that surrounds us every single day of our lives, but as we age, this obvious picture tends to dull.  It fogs over, at times even disappears.  This scares me.  Our creative empire grows from our youth.  To continuously feel inspired and grow as individuals we must remember our innocence and simple joys.  It is in this, that we can let go, we can become free, our limitations washed away and endless knows no boundaries.
So I ask you Pan, come to my rescue.  Jump stead fast through my window in wild abandon.  Sprinkle me with fairy dust and escort me back, back to a time of effortless possibility where pajama pants were a true comfort, and the hug of a grandparent was pure joy.  Oh and please pan; remind me of my delight in sparklers, and the safety of my dogs fur, the giggles between girlfriends and my mothers familiar voice.  The excitement of sneaking cookies and the messy freedom of finger painting.  Where ice cream was for breakfast and grass stains the latest of trends; or the assured belief that stuffed animals feel and our money is made from lemonade stands.  All of these memories and more….remind me of what it felt like to be young.
I realize you might be too busy for me Peter Pan; repainting ones adult soul can be a heavy weighted request.  I know planning adventures and taunting crocodiles are on your highest of priorities, I’ve come to terms with your busy existence.  But, dearest Pan, if you do have time for a midnight perch, I beg you to extend your hand, shake firmly with purpose, and promise me, I will not forget the childlike honesty of my creative possibilities.