I Owe It To Him
And then I thought...
And then I thought I owed him. I owe that little boy. I owe those innocent eyes that never used to stop dreaming. I owed a debt to that young, innocent soul whose dreamlike eyes would gaze in wonder at the vibrant leaves, playfully tease the snails after a fresh summer rain, the soul that so often lose itself within the pages of Tintin, Fantom comics. Those bedtime stories and summer holiday books...That boy would embark on nightly adventures teaming up with Tarzan, Famous Five, or Feluida, traveling to distant lands, befriending new companions, exploring untamed forests and scaling majestic peaks, or by the warm glow of a campfire in the Amazon.
I thought I owed it to him – that wide-eyed youth who had not yet been jaded by the trials of life.
Life has been better than many - through the familiar trappings of success – the corporate climb, all those pressures of deadlines and targets, the late nights, the promotions and resignations, the moments of failure and triumph.....a home in the bustling city, a car---oh, it was quite okay and some would say, even successful. But, then, I thought I owed it to him!
I owed it to him to recapture that sense of wonder, that unadulterated curiosity about the mysteries that lay beyond the horizon.
I owe it to that little boy...before it is too late!

its true ... sometimes along the way we lose touch with those long-ago innocent dreams amidst everything. The snails and glow worms ... sheer nostalgia
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