Searching For a Childhood Dream

Such a familiar place, was here;
The sounds of a waterfall near,
The trees did grow as in the past,
And though I die, they will last.

Yet somehow something had changed,
This place I knew wasn't the same,
I did not know what was so different,
It held the same sounds, same scent.

But when I climbed the old oak tree,
To sit up high and look at the scene;
It wasn't as tall as I remember it then,
So, with a sigh, I climbed down again.

As I sat on a rock with a sense of despair;
My life had crumbled, dusting up the air.
I had returned back to my childhood's place,
To dream as I once had of Faeries in lace.

But the magic had left this place bare,
And though I looked it just wasn't there,
And as I sat, a voice I did seem to hear;
Whispered some news into my ear

" 'Tisn't us that hath changed, my dear;
We shall never change, no matter the year."
The voice began, capturing me completely.
" 'Tisn't us that hath changed, but thee."

I jumped in shock and looked around;
But the voice, it couldn't be be found.
I realized then that it had be just me;
The voice was from childhood dreams.

I had made up a person to play with here,
And as I sat I felt an uncalled for tear.
I knew then that this place had not change;
But it was me, not it, that wasn't the same.

As the years had past, my belief that failed;
No more Faeries, nor any knights in mail.
So instead I built a new place of peace;
I lay against the tree, felt my soul release.

I guess it depends on the soul at hand;
That makes a place's dreams fall or stand.
Though my dreams had changed since then;
I guess that means its time for more to begin