Growing up

Growing up

There is no magic, my little boy, declared,
To his younger cousin, her eyes sad and wide,
They put the bunny inside beforehand,
It is just a trick, do you understand?
I listened to this conversation in dismay,
When did my little boy from magic, turn away
The same one that thought the sun went to bed each night,
And in the morning  came out to play,
That the moon and the clouds had a pillow fight,
When he looked up into a cloudy night,
O why couldn't he ,that little magical boy stay?
This celebrated process of growing up and enhanced ability,
At the cost of magical sensibility,
A process of taking on more responsibility,
Is it really just a celebration of conformity ?

--shubha