Dear Children Who Stand on Their Heads,
Will you tell me a story of flowers?
One with words twisting and turning to tell?
To distract my wandr'n mind for hours?
Water an idea and grow a spell.
Will you sing me a song of towering trees?
One with branches that reach to others ears?
With roots that bring all men down to their knees?
Cast shadows over all those without fears.
Will you create art that is made of air?
One that floats, and breathes a life of color?
Which will carry the dreamers to else and where?
Shout loud whispers to the tall and taller
Will you give me a world as right as wrong?
Upside down, and more weak than it is strong?
A Girl Standing on Her Toes, But Hanging Upside Down