Wonder is not an impermanent thing.
Inside each of us resides that soft, seeking light, reaching out through our senses and connecting with its brothers and sisters, emanating from all the things around us. By its guidance we seek to unfold mysteries and bring dreams to life. This light is wonder.
Wonder is not lost all at once.
Slowly it becomes less easy to see other lights. Then, one day, you reach for your own light so you can create, and find that it has gone out.
No. It hasn’t gone out. You have built a labyrinth, with your wonder at the center, and you are lost, lost, lost. You have surrounded it with a wall of shields, spearheads glinting sharp in every opening and crevice. You have mounted curtains, sheer and delicate, around it, and they are too holy to be parted. The veil must not be lifted; the bride must not be kissed; the virgin must not make love.
Wonder is something you steal from yourself.
You realize that you can’t reach it, that barriers have been made. Without it, you can’t find the ambition to weave through the maze, battle the guard, tear the veil. You are empty and dull. All you have is routine. They say the eyes are the window to the soul. You have no eyes.
Wonder will always be there.
You have no reason for existence, but you continue to exist because it is still there, somewhere deep and dark and cold. Someday you will find it again. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. Still, some day.