The Poetry Snapshot: Metamorphosis of Time

Before children start sleeping with memories
to look back on,
A nostalgic vault,
meant for safekeeping,
but never with its lock on,
they can only imagine of what could be.
Dreaming of a future where they would see
the grace of age swept away by the river.

Tides of childhood crash on shore,
As early bonds forge and turn folklore
into missions to explore;
with every mention of maturity,
youthful optimism is deplored
to have crayoned ideas be more respected,
and backyard ponds take us around the world.

We try to grow up,
in hopes that age will let us go.
Stop gripping us to our seat.
Locking us at home.

When will you realize age is your protector?
A collector of laughter,
advocator of reckless spur.
A metamorphosis of time,
keeping your life from accelerating,
until you cannot make anything of the blur.

When that time comes, oh what a wonderous transformation!
Vibrant and thunderous, with no hesitation.
A breakthrough and bestowment,
from hurrying to grow up to savoring every moment.