Poems from Skippingstone

I'm dreaming, half in this world, half in the one artists visit. I cannot see this world the way they want me to: it would go against everything I value. I will not seek the gold that brings greed into our hearts. I will not see people as puppets to lift me on a throne. I will not throw away emotions they want to burn. Instead of standing on my desk and shouting the truth out loud for the people of power to fear, I plant the little mustard seeds in these poem pots. Maybe the trees that grow will tell sing with the courage I do not have.