Where do imaginary friends go, when children outgrow them?
Weighed with years, I earthward bend
My root and branch receiving
The lost imaginary friend
Some child has stopped believing.
Arriving, though they grieve their loss,
They find a place of healing
With friends among the roots and moss
And blossoms for their ceiling.
A thousand different forms they share
From many different places.
Lion, princess, teddy bear,
They wear a thousand faces.
And when they’re ready, they will go,
Called forth, and coalescing,
Knowing, as they always know,
They travel with my blessing.
Like seeds of maple wander-spun
Although their hour be waning,
In air as sweet as cinnamon
They fly without complaining.
Knowing, when their sojourn’s done
No traveler disdaining
I wait, in rain or snow or sun,
Upon our hill remaining.