The new can’t replace the should have been The should have been haunts us forever Though the new will be a healer And receive all our love just the same. It’s pointless being angry at fate But that doesn’t stop the burn The frisson on top of everyday stress For the should have been we always yearn. The new will have it’s own should have been. So maybe we will understand. And make a happier will be. At least that is the plan.
The world in a book For my son To show him the places Across the seas That he dreams of. The colours, The creatures, The cultures and the clashes. The world in a book in his hands As one day The world will be in his hands.
Deep bright purple star. Piercing from the depths of roiling blue gas clouds And a million billion stars Outshining Venus and Mars Swathes like silver paths Some gathered in spiral wheels And between them in the sparse dark spaces Ships blink and travel on by. A memory from the deepest well of childhood. A memory that could not have been.
Birds do it. Bees do it Even the goddamn fleas do it It’s in the genes to survive It’s not enough. Not for us We have more, in our double helix Than the ability to thrive Make it our duty Transcend circumstance!
Shake! Awake! Shake! Awake! The sun. Is up! Rise up! Rise up! Open eyes! Beneath Blue skies. Cast off Sleep’s reins. See! The plains. No sleep! Breath deep! Sun warms. No storms. Stretch arms. Take arms. Run! In the sun! Take bow! Go! Take spear! Disappear! When Wind blows. Lift nose. And scent why they sent for you. They come! They run! See! The birds. Speak. No words. Watch them lead. They will feed. Feel the land. Trust your hand. See grass sway. They come this way. Feel the ground. Hear the sound. Thunderous sound. All around. A mound of meat. Trust your feet. Spear and bow. Blood will flow. With one voice. We rejoice! And the buffalo pass, to greener grass.