Recommended by Ana Maria Wilson

If I were young as once I was, and dreams and death
more distant then,
I wouldn’t split my soul in two, and keep half in the
world of men,
So half of me would stay at home, and strive for Fäerie in
vain,
While all the while my soul would stroll up narrow path,
down crooked lane,
And there would meet a fairy lass and smile and bow with
Kisses three,
She’d pluck wild eagles from the air and nail me to a 
lightning tree
And if my heart would run from her or flee from her, be
gone from her,
She’d wrap it in a nest of stars and then she’d take it on
with her

Until one day she’d tire of it, all bored with it and done
with it
She’d leave it by a burning brook, and off brown boys
would run with it.
They’d take it and have fun with it and stretch it long and
cruel and thin,
They’d slice it into four and then they’d string with it a 
violin.
And every day and every night they’d play upon my heart
a song
So plaintive and so wild and strange that all who heard it
danced along
And sang and whirled and sank and trod and skipped and
slipped and reeled and rolled
Until, with eyes as bright as coals, they’d crumble into
Wheels of gold. . .

But I am young no longer now; for sixty years my heart’s 
been gone
To play its dreadful music there, beyond the valley of the
sun.
I watch with envious eyes and mind, and single-souled,
who dare not feel
The wind that blows beyond the moon, who do not hear
the fairy Reel.
If you don’t hear the Fairy Reel, they will not pause to steal
your breath.
When I was young I was a fool.  So wrap me up in dreams
and death.

– Neil Gaiman

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