The Radiation of Magic

There is a type of intense passion that falls from a forest. If I could collect all of the shavings of childhood memories throughout the world that spiced a human's imagination with wildness, I believe that most of them would have derived from some type of forest. Whether it be a wooded area, a jungle underneath mother's bed, or a net of metal chairs at the landfill, our small minds could draw magical formulas from beneath the truth of societal reality. Now I am grown, mentally and physically, more than when I was considered a child. Although the imaginations stirred in the forests of my childhood encased me to who I believe I am today, finding magic and learning where to find it I feel is even more vital to my being as I grow older. I have found that place, and whenever I am present there, I am exhaled into an alternate brain world. This place is known to others as the Palm Hammocks, but to me it is the lattice of my dreams sewn together by its unruly eucalyptus branches and twine, and my head is echoes with the whispers of the palm hands and the breathing of silent stars.