Finding Neverland Again
I played with Peter Pan today. He showed me the inside track on the mountainside Frisbee golf course. Yesterday, I watched him bury live grasshoppers. I hope tomorrow he will tell me more stories. Last night for dinner he ate his two trout caught on power bait in the pond behind Main Street. For income, he pocketed $44 in old-lady cash from pumping gas and washing windows at the Shell station on Tuesday.I wish I could go with him.
For Peter, time bends when he’s awake, summer sunsets extend and misfit lost boys live next door. I asked him if he ever gets bored, “Naaah-there’s always something to do”. He told me sometimes he walks in the woods really far from home but always knows where home is. I spit. He spits. He scampered. I tried to copy him.
Peter Pan’s life is a lot like the book. Everything is big and magical, but void of Captain Hook. His oldest sister is like Princess Tiger Lilly. His mom is a descendant of precious Wendy. The twins are John and Michael. Peter’s middle sister must be Tinker bell.
Finding Neverland again is a choice for me. For Peter, he hasn’t grown up yet. I hope he never will. In case he does, I hope he remembers the things he taught me, to tell stories, belief in magic, smile at old ladies, go fishing with your friends, live simply, boredom is a choice, walk in the woods alone and scamper instead of walk.
Thank you, Peter.