Dragons Still Exist

She used to lie in the grass,
staring at the sky,
her mind drifting like clouds,
imagining dragons soaring above the ravine.
She'd reach out,
fingers brushing against the air,
and in her mind,
she tamed them—
friends made in the wild winds,
riding high into the sky
where freedom never faded.

But now the grass feels harder,
the sky seems farther,
and the dragons are distant echoes,
wingbeats too faint to hear.
She doesn’t dream of soaring anymore,
only of the ground beneath her feet,
the silence that’s become her refuge,
the quiet that has swallowed all her wonder.

The dragons are gone,
and so is the girl who once believed that she could fly.
Now, she stands in the shadow of what she once was,
a memory of wings that never broke free.

I just can’t wait to tell her that dragons do in fact, exist.