fill me with the hope to wish

He says he wants to be a scuba diver.

He says he wants to swim in the big aquarium with the turtles and sharks. To wear a mask and a tank, and float free and easy with the great schools of fish. To feed the moray eels by hand. To spend his days in deep water, flippers for feet, the air rising from his lungs, finding shape and form, slipping loose from his lips and undulating up and outward toward the distant edge of heaven.

He says: or a fireman.

To live ready, waiting, strong and steady and brave, to answer the alarm. In a heartbeat: down the pole and into that great red beast of a truck. To fly through town, siren rattling glass, lights flashing in violent, syncopated heartbeat time, toward uncertainty and the promise of flame. To one day stand before children, to see them looking upon him with that same expression of wonder and respect and something like fear, and know that he is the abstract made flesh.

Or Green Lantern. He says: I want to be Green Lantern.

To be lifted free of the surly bonds of earth on the strength of character and belief, and take his place among heroes and gods. To bring righteousness to those who would do wrong, comfort to those in need, safety to those who would otherwise fall in terror. To grant his dreams depth and volume in vibrant, electric green, bright as grass and strong enough to raise ships from sea. To see his will made real.

A teacher, daddy. I want to be a teacher.

To share his love of knowledge and shapes, colors and numbers, states and animals and music and art with those who would learn from him, surround and blanket him in trust and attention, follow his direction and earn his love as he earns theirs. To be called Mister, with reverence and affection. With respect.

He says: I want to go on the train.

To travel by exotic means to the heart of a great city each day, and engage in the business of business. To have an office to call his own, vibrant with photos and drawings, a computer and a chair that belong to no one else. A day to pass in the company of giants, and then to arrive home at day's end: exhausted, hungry, ready to find sustenance in the warmth of conversation and smiling family. To be as we are.

Each dream is enough to make something sing and break within us. We dare not believe them possible. We will not deny the possibility. We ache with hope and wonder at each new bubble that breaks the surface, breathless at its sudden beauty, careful not to show too much lest we somehow - by virtue of our clumsy motions and intents - shatter the delicate surface tension.

There is no conclusion to this. None that we know, or want to know. There is only him: six and beautiful and somewhere deep in the becoming.