Life takes place in the valley

That enlightened age of first thoughts,
when you were barely five and
unaware of life or its meaning.

In the growing shadows of the trees,
you heard the distant sound of joy.
Voices coming from the valley.

Boys who chase girls,
who see the universe fit
in the palms of their hands.

To breath wasn't a gift. To age was a desire.
The purpose of life was to run,
not to catch or to get caught.