Food for thought on a rainy day

Little pebbles give the ground away, saying to him: he who is lost must be found

The ground is coming out underneath, but the light somehow pulls off the choking scarf

Of sacrifice, the children will be safe tonight

Green is the grass and the walls and the sky

New adventures and new beginnings are not doomed for eternity, to my

neverending plurality and stability.

 

Yes, the time is nigh to put away that silken tie and come to join the masses of

those left behind, give the fingers, oustretched with the glory of freedom

Grasp those knuckles, white but still pink all at the same time

Flush, flushed cheeks, they brighten with the hint of a smile

Getting up off the dirt of the ground, no help no trial no single tear drop, drop on top

tables of sheer wood, magnificent blinding us above,

this is why I give the scissors, to cut away the misery and pain which so envelops

your face, your true beauty. Every person must have the will, the fire to aid

Apples to bananas or bananas to apples, your cherry-wood staircase must lead away the orphan of your maid

 

No matter where or how far there are those bracelets, of charms, they tinkle as you walk

Telling me, exciting me, for new ways to help grow the corn, raise the kids

 

This humanity is all we can dream of, as my white knuckles (which are also pink)

turn to pink knuckles (but still white)

and the sigh of your breath is content as I loan you my private boat, you sail away and I

stand on the the shore and witness the true gifts of humanity.