When We Were Younger

We ran without knowing where the road would end, chased the wind just to feel it push back, laughed at the rain because it belonged to no one. The days stretched wide, filled with the hum of possibility, each sunrise a doorway we had not yet walked through. Fear was a distant thing, a shadow too slow to catch us, and time was a word we did not yet understand. We spoke in deams, built castles from stories, believed in forever because no one had told us otherwise. Now, the days move differently, softened by memory, colored by all the things we could not see back then. But still, in the quiet moments, I hear the echoes of our laughter- and for a second, we are young again.