We will soar to heights denied to eagles.
We will dive to new-found depths.
We will allow ourselves to be children
Skipping dimpled hand in dimpled hand.
We will waltz across entire continents,
We will float across rivers, lakes and chasms.
We will hold each other high, and never let go.
We will croon to each other when we are low.
We will speak each other’s language.
We will create new notes for new lyrics to sing.
We will warble songs that rose to night skies
Before the very first spark lit the very first fire.
We will speak without talking.
We will speak on the run.
We will speak without moving.
We will speak of the unspeakable.
We will speak of emotion. Yes, of love.
Yes, of love. Of love, yes. Yes, of love.
Will speak, we will, with freedom, of freedom,
For freedom, about freedom. Free,
Will grow new without fear of losing
The least of the old. C e l e b r a t e
The sun, the moon, and the stars.
We will feather grateful leaves on magnificent trees.
We will mesmerize readers into appreciating green.
We will honor the bear and the wolf and the fox.
We will sway atop elephants, and shiver atop branches
Eye-to-eyeing tigers, lions and panthers,
Aquamarine pools, butter-yellow bees,
Hot purple parrots and long sunning snakes.
None will we neglect in our free-roaming quest
To gather and honor Nature’s gifts without trapping
One single creature into surrendering its freedom.
We will not only see them, and hear them,
Smell them, and feel them, we will be them
For brief but miraculous instants only
The free have the privilege of speaking
Freely. God-granted, we will, yes, will
Will to speak free.
So many things to be thankful for
Before I walk out the door
Many, Many times I wondered how
Life could be so depressing
Then a child is born
And makes everything so clear
For it is for her I have sworn
To turn life around and have no more fear
So many things to be thankful for
Before I walk out the door
But this day
I will be thankful for her more
Someone wants to know if my aesthetic journey
Instilled confidence. Is Life not such a trip?
But, yes, the arts tapped some deep yearning
That led to healing escape as I became gripped
By paintings, drawings, stories, and poems.
That in time began to include my own.
Were I Queen, we'd all carry feather-light stones
Engraved, "See? You are not Alone."
In tiny print: "Give yourself over to creating
Works of art that take the sting out of feeling.
That teach people alternatives to hating.
That heal, then reach deep, to speed the healing.
Help us know ourselves better. Help us add,
instead of subtract. Glow, instead of blind.
That it is okay to vacillate between sane and mad,
If you're honestly trying to light hearts and minds."
Fittingly my trip began with the Wonderland of Alice,
Then a grade-school teacher lavished praise
On a tiny tale, transporting me to a glittering palace
Where Once upon a Time could keep pain at bay.
Always the hope that what we create will last.
No art? I could not survive such a fast.
c) Phyllis Jean Green
All Rights Reserved
