A repost from 2013.
I don't need you to keep me busy.
I don't need you to cure my boredom.
I need you to throw open the back door and invite me outside.
Into the sunlight or the moonlight or the hazy morning fog.
I don't need more lessons or activities or organized after-school-anything.
I need to wander out in the rain and the snow.
Aimless and dreaming. Exploring.
Where I will see fairies dancing in the mist.
Give me time for games without rules.
Give me space to run barefoot through the dew.
Give me a childhood unburdened so that I may be the person I am meant to be.
I don't need more toys.
Or newer. Or better.
I need less.
Just give me a few wooden planks, your old mixing bowls, and a shovel.
Then let me go without guidance.
To get dirty.
I don't need you to plug me in.
Instead I need you to plug into me.
Put down your phone.
Turn it off.
And tune into my childhood.
Dig with me.
Be with me.
Share these fleeting and dreaming days.
Because all that I truly need is you.
And a simple space in which to grow.
Edited: I've added a follow-up to this post. You can find it here.