Burning Desire ...well, Maybe Simmering

Let me take you back in time; to an idyll where needs were simple and desires so passionately held.  Now honesty begs me clarify that this is not a time you can find on a calendar.  For each of us the parameters will differ.  My halcyon days most probably concluded before the parents of many of you were born.  But then the era is unimportant as the emotions run true for each generation in turn.

I write, of course, of childhood.  That time when fervor will be ignited so easily by the imagination, sparked by overwhelming desire of objects: Trinkets, baubles, gewgaws whose value is amplified by cultural approbation as the treasure of the age; in a word; the toy.

It does not matter in which epoch one’s life is lived.  For each, there is that one point of yearning that is so readily twisted into desperate need.  When fancy becomes obsession and reason deserts the beholder.  The phrase, “I need it!” is the unnatural mantra of the spell bound coveter.  There is no antidote for this psychological venom but possession.  Without it, the world is empty space, ennui without end.  But for those endowed with luck, empowered by the gods to secure the golden fleece of their dreams, there is fulfillment, joy, Nirvana!

And as the days of bliss flow ever forward into the eternity, our soul is calmed by the knowledge that we possess the one thing, the locus of our universe, the reward for all our efforts.  Until, of course, a new enchantment overtakes our reason.  Our attention is turned away from what we knew in our heart of hearts was to be our true love forever and ever.  And the erstwhile objet de Coeur, once such a bright star, fades into the darkness of unremembered elation.

I don't want to grow up, I'm a Toys' R Us kid 

There's a million toys at Toys 'R Us that I can play with! 

From bikes, to trains, to video games, 

It's the biggest toy store there is! Gee whiz! 

I don't want to grow, cuz baby if I did, 

I wouldn't be a Toys 'R Us kid.

 

A Pastoral Parable

Oh, serenity of an elm shaded lea,

At once so calm and so inspiring

Until a bird doth shit on thee,

And nature shows her whimsy!