The Innocence of Questions

One day I was thinking,

Just spacing out,

Yet, I realized, my brain was…

Having a drought.

Thinking,

Wondering,

Imagining.

Nothing.

Where’d all the ideas go?

Then I thought:

Curiosity.

Just letting the questions flow.

Oh, man, questions.

They’re wonderfully magnificent,

escaping from a big old mouth,

In response,

every answer is brilliant.

Because an answer,

provides an explanation,

which then explains things

and answers your question.

Right?

Then I thought,

but I know the answers to a lot,

I went to school, granted,

lots of that information I forgot.

Then I got to thinking about school,

I spent so much of my life there,

in all honestly, took advantage of it,

pretended that I didn’t care.

But, it wasn’t always this way,

Dragging my ass outta bed every day,

The older I got,

The less school meant a lot.

But man, I remember those old days,

With nap time, and red lunch trays

Chicken nuggets and Magic Tree House books,

Fuck, why’d I trade in those for textbooks?

But then I thought,

Getting old’s not so bad,

I don’t have to let go of childhood,

Or be sad.

Because children are still all around,

Not to mention within me,

If I just dig deep down.

Wide eyed, bushy tailed,

Imaginations running wild,

Adventures that have never failed

In the mysterious mind of a child.

Thinking back

to those childhood days,

With monsters under the bed,

Creeping out,

and then they sprung

nightmares in a small head.

When sticks were swords

that fought great battles

and simple words gave life,

tree houses built

with Dad’s bare hands,

me playing dress up,

being a housewife.

Now that memory

has been refreshed

I think back further

heart pounding in my chest

to the questions asked

from innocent mouths

that spark a laugh

from all around.

Questions, you see

mouths running free

giggles erupting

spreading the glee:

Why is the sky blue?

Wait, who are you?

What happens when we die?

What’s smaller than a fly?

How big is the sea?

Mommmm, I have to pee.

Why can’t I ride the dog?

What’s hiding under that log?

Why can’t I pick my nose?

Why do I have to wear clothes?

Well, I just ate a booger,

But before that I covered it with sugar.

Where is our field trip to?

Where we headed to?

Plymouth plantation?!

What do they do?

Observations, suddenly made

wow, she has a nice braid!

Wait,

they dress up funny,

wearing weird hats,

churning butter

that lady’s fat…

How is butter made?

Mom, can I

go out and play?

What is love?

WHY?
Why don’t others

Want to see our private parts?

How many animals

are in the zoo?

Can I eat this bug?

Why don’t boys like to hug?

Do girls have cooties?

Ewwww, they do,

why

do I have

to put on shoes?

Where do babies come from?

-God, insert awkward stork story here-

What is death?

Is God real?

Can I have cookies

for a meal?

So many questions,

Possibilities never ending,

There’s no filter on a child,

The number of questions, always ascending.

Now, stop.

I realized,

time is the enemy in the end,

reaching out like a long lost friend,

taking away that youthful innocence,

childhood gone within an instant.

But why should time stop all of this?

Blowing virtue away with one last kiss.

Wondering.

Questioning.

Imagining.

This can still live on.

Why did it die out?

Isn’t this what life’s all about?