A journey’s a way of turning away
From yourself and into the day.
When kingdoms have need
Of high thought and deed
They’re pretty well agreed –
The noblest of knights have all had to fight
Against their very own might,
Sent to see selves revealed
And be sure that they’d yield
To nothing worse than steel.
When swords wandered into lidded woods
Some things were understood:
Be glad of fear and go.
You are your greatest foe.
The woods are more than wood.
I’m through with my Me.
I would like to wander
As free as I can be.
So I’m through with my Me.
I’ve noticed that it weighs Me down,
I’d rather be a Meless clown
Than wear a KingMe crown.
My Me flag drags,
It zigs and zags
On MeMeMeMe jags.
My Me puts the M in impossible,
Willing and wishing to hobble
Anything more than a bauble
I’m through with my Me.
You can hoard or hide your self
Behind a haze of Not-Me stealth.
You will eventually lose it.
So you might as well use it.
You may think you like taking,
But living is giving.
Put your self on the spot –
What have you got?
You know the rest,
Giving blah-blah-blah best.
I dare you to find
Some thing to change my mind.
We may not agree,
But here’s a piece of me.
They’ve lied about the rainbow!
It’s not a blessing of the rain, no!
The truth is in the name!
“Bow” of bow-and-arrow fame!
The proof is in its aim.
Follow rain from whence it came,
You’ll find clouds to roundly blame.
Beautiful but lonely is the sky,
Bluely full of lowly reasons why
It might launch a you or I
Up to say, “Oh, hey there, hi!”
Have you ever been an arrow?
It’s the opposite of scarecrow.
Cloud would command as pharaoh:
“Fly up into the air, go!
Come be my wondrous buddy
Up in this thunderous bubbly!”
Will you obey?
One last thing I’ll say –
If you wish to walk the sky,
Well, there are other ways.
One thing I’d like to posit:
Every lesson learned in life
Has many useful opposites.
Many a reader has felt a book’s nibble
And thought to themselves –
“Is it really so simple?
Is this all there is? Have I solved the riddle?
All that I need is paper and ink
And then I’ll be a book, I think!
To make myself a booky kid
I’ll eat pages by the chapter,
Drinking inklings by the squid!
All gloried stories and happy ever afters!”
If we might be a bit more clever –
Remember that book’s little nibble?
Many books wish hard to be people!
Not set in ink! Not know their end!
So right now let’s be a book friend,
And not conclude this one and then
What would you do with my life?
What would I with yours?
Would you take mine to the knife
And feed it to the birds?
No, you’d lead it to a safe place,
Give it food, drink, book, and blanket,
Say with solid, solemn face,
“What an honor,” and you’d thank it.
Does my life matter more or less
When in different hands?
Would yours be worse or better blessed
On other kingdom’s lands.
May I beg a favor from your wealth
Of thoughtful, caring fame?
Will you be kinder to yourself?
I’ll try to do the same.