Art of Creation 

The sky is a-gouache

With watercolour blue behind it.

It is so clear, what I must do.

The spring green buds

Appear, like freckles, freshly drawn upon the faces of the trees.

Their smiles are blowing endlessly,

And it is crystal clear what I must do.

But the world will try to make you into a cartoon,

Defecate on you, and you will  yearn

To turn around and dish it back to them.

But please depart from the caricature.

Return to the art. See nature,

How it receives the filthy manure.

The trees accept it and turn it into blooms and fruit.

It is very clear what I must do.

Who will come and stand with me,

Even amidst all the poop,

To be painted grandly in Life’s creation, anyway?

Take my hand.

Together,

We’ll raise them to the sky,

Thank it for its clarity,

Feel our true natural dignity rise,

Then can we stand?

And Breathe, and Love,

And Bloom,

And Be a beautiful part of the 

Art of this creation?

It is clear to me

What I must do.

And how about you?

-jenn