My poems and other thoughts …

Words are a journey

(for those children who long to be outside)

I’m stuck inside today and feeling rather low,
there’s nothing to do and nowhere to go.
All my friends are doing such wonderful things
like camping, and swimming, and swinging on swings.

I need a big change, a much better view,
I want to go places exciting and new.
There are rivers to cross and oceans to sail—
I don’t want to sit here and grow lonely and stale.

So I get out my journal and write out my plan;
it doesn’t take long for my list to expand.
If I started my journey at morning’s sunrise
I am certain my friends will love the surprise

as I ride a black pony through meadows of gold
and tip-toe on wave-tops using stars as handholds.
They will hear of my journey at home and abroad
and will eagerly wait to stand and applaud.

I climb up a tree that is shaped like a cone
and using a very tall ladder, I sit on this throne.
I watch as two girls twirl in meadows with glee—
they open a cage and set butterflies free.

By now I am smiling at the thought of tomorrow
as I fly over Paris on the back of a swallow.
And when it grows hot and I feel like a swim,
I’ll dive in a tub that is filled to the brim.

Now I’m smart and know that traveling is tough
so I think about options if the ocean gets rough:
I could walk a tightrope over whitecaps and waves
and paint the dark sky with a red and gold glaze.

I daydream of pastures as I watch a rain-shower
while little white birds make a crown out of flowers.
I wander the shoreline and look at the lake
and imagine my life after taking this break.

I will tell all my friends of the places I’ve been
I’ll bring them back pictures of birds that I’ve seen.
I’ll fill a glass jar with feathers and flowers
and give all my friends a taste of rain-showers.

I thought of the stories I will tell at recess
to Maria and Danial and Noah and Tess.
Later Leo my dog will be waiting for me
and we’ll play in the grass and run under trees.

Mother will call “Honey, come eat!”
and it’ll all smell so good as I rush to my seat,
and I’ll tell them about my spectacular day
as I looked for adventure in a different way.

Father will laugh and say “We welcome you back,
you must be so tired, can we help you unpack?”
“Why no,” I will say, “I travelled lightly today,
and it’s great to be home after my long hours away.”

Then, as the day turns to night and the moon rises high,
And the stars wink and nod in the velvety sky,
I will think of my journey over meadows and streams
And pull up my blanket and get ready to dream.

 

 

 

 

The Baobab Tree

You are the oasis in the desert—
A canopy in summer,
the endless promise of the new Moon.
Birds build winter nests and teach their babies how to fly
from the safety of your outstretched arms.
Your branches play among the stars,
Your roots dig deep into the ancient soil,
drinking on tradition that goes back to
the wisdom of the scholars
and the prayers of the prophets.

You know the path of the milky way,
the avenue of the giants,
the promised destiny of the world.
Stand tall guardian of the savannah—
a monument in the darkness and the light.
Listen to the whisper of the wind …
it has secrets to tell …
you are not alone.
You are filled with promise.
You are the tree of life.