I’m through with my Me.

I’d like to wander
As free as 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
Beyond MeMeMeMeMe.

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 in the air, go!
Come be my wondrous buddy
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!

However,
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.

How to begin?

Whether stone or story,
What’s our way in?

Olk Krombone saw the earth
Not as a floor
But as something well worth
Digging into much more.
She felt it to be full
And was rather enthralled
At the thought of what all
Could be waiting her call.
She went out and found and held a hole.
Made sure it had ahold of her.
She pulled and pulled and pulled and pulled.
It came very, very slow.

All living springs from giving things
Of ourselves, from the shelves
Of our holy Soul.

Olk came up without an arm
Completely unalarmed.
Also came an antlered elk
Of roots and earthy ilk.
It rose up underneath her,
An ancient newborn creature,
To carry wherever Soul would lead her.

Illustration by IS.

He thought and he thought
But nothing came in.
A full brain shutdown.
Had he emptied his bin?
Was it some sort of block?
A thinking famine?
Gray matter gone black?
Out of whimsy and whim
Had he finally gone dim?

A last gasping thought held him,
Looking hopeful but grim:

To jump-start something start jumping!
To get those thoughts up and thumping
He had to get himself bumping!
So he bobbled about and, bubbling something,

Hit the floor and broke through
Falling back on into
His brain where he knew
Some thoughts that were new.

The sheep wondered why
Wolves tried to get by
Wearing the clothes of a sheep.

Even a sheep eye
Sees the wolf in the lie
‘Cause some secrets are too dumb to keep.

In order to solve
This weirdness of wolves
Some sheep took a great howling leap.

They wore all wolf clothes
But as far as that goes
They soon threw them off in a heap.

The sheep quickly learned
Wolf clothes should be burned
For their itchiness burrows in deep.

The sheep happily chose
To share all their clothes
And befriended those wolves for quite cheap.

Drawn by HyruleanHyroe.

They say you’re what you are
Because of what you can’t.
Well, that won’t get you far –
May I invite you for a rant?

If all you see are cans and can’ts
Then you’re already in a trance
Of no sense – nuisance – no chance.

They’ll fill you up on don’ts and dos,
They’re all to full of lose-lose views,
Refuse their calls to be confused.

If only you see through their ruse,
There’s more of you that you may choose
To build – to learn – to use.

There’s Truth and then there’s right now true.
Pull all things into what you do.
What you are is not just you.