Her problem was that she
believed in a world too big, too unreal and without edges;
bounding past logic and reason and
diving beneath waterfalls of mystery.
She didn’t need the answers of reality, her soul
fed on unknowns and adventures- she
saw magic everywhere and never once
flinched at the unexplained.
.
.
.
(398.2 is the Dewey Decimal systems number for Fairy-tales)
Happiness was imminent,
There was no escape,
They had built too perfect,
Too lovely a day.
And God had blessed,
With Fatherly love,
Wide open spaces
And a cloudless above.
On the brink of Autumn,
When the green gets dusky,
They waded through the sunshine,
And the shade of the trees.
Look at how much of the year has past
whispered the gentle, astonished breath.
Three fourths of the calendar filled
And what is it you’ve found at last?
Your liveliness like the lines of a map,
crossing and layering till there’s no space left.
The song of wind against your ear, the calm of another nearly gone year.
Have you found it?
You said you had. Why is your smile so lively and glad?
“September”, you sigh.
And I suddenly understand.
Your life is a map and September
the land.
Pardon the passing days
But I am here to stay,
Like the creaking cypress
In windy May,
As evergreen as pine and sea.
The years bear no ill-will
But they race each other,
The next faster still,
At far too rapid an
Impatient pace.
So onward I’ll plod
But without the disgrace
Of moving so swiftly
And merely passing the days.
She walked along in sweet confidence
for she understood where life went,
and where it came from,
and all it can become,
Is the result of generations of love.
Let’s make beautiful things, she said, as though no task could be simpler.
Let’s catch a star and carry it home. Let’s roll in paint and glitter.
Let’s dance in satin slippers, silk ones
and let’s make the music too.
Let’s sew with miles of tulle and ribbon, let’s make a tiara of blue.
Let us talk to the roses as we hike through the garden barefoot.
Let us sing with the birds’ chirps, let us balance on giant tree roots.
Let us watch the rain for hours, naming every drop.
Let us pretend the clouds have castles made of cotton swabs.
Let’s imagine we’re medieval and going on a horseback ride,
but then let’s get distracted by a dragonfly we find.
Let’s take hours in the morning for waking, dressing and musing,
and let us end the happy process
by making beautiful things.
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