If you find something lost
You have a chance to leave it lost
At less than little cost.

Some things burn in the sunlight
(And some of them should, right?)
But there’s something in the unknown
That we should never own.
Leave lovely Mystery on her throne.

This idea may be most sound –
Let yourself be lost with it.
You always need to be found?
Take the tumbumbleweed ticket.

Illustration by MB who posts her art on Instagram.

(Read some of Itsy’s and Bitsy’s previous (mis)adventures.)

The world gets bored busy
By its own dizzy tizzies
And might take it out on an Itsy or Bitsy
Who met once again in the muck mired middle
Of a messy and yet somehow much ‘mired riddle
Where good and bad were naught but a quibble
Branching off the truthy tree
Where noble -tsys bloomed wild and free
Into blunt buzz of a soothe-see bee
Proclaiming the future had arrived
And sucking them into its inky hive
Where they dripped down pens to bring alive
This sorry story of promising luck
But if they stayed then they’d be stuck
So th y got up and off th y snuck
Into another tricky tale
Where they might fail or fail to fail
And all the importance that entails,
Sneaking in and out and round
Some polluted plot they found
‘Bout a large three headed hound
That stood guard at secret gates
But feared the fickle fingered Fates
Who poked at any stable states
And even with his six eyeballs
That haunted hound could not see all
So our -tsys took him awol,
Through the gates, into a space
The Fates were blind and could not chase,
A knowing and yet unknown place
Where only you could trap yourself,
A bedeviling sort of awful health,
That if cured would bring a wealth
Of other gates and other ways
Into and through the mother maze
So as they went they raised with praise
The heads and hearts of all they passed
Until their running reached the last
Large wyrm hole where sat aghast
A lion with its own three heads
Who stood up straight and looked ahead
At what could be and so she fled
Into hope with hound at heels,
Leaving ‘tsys to make a deal
‘Tween things they think and fings they feel
So Itsy and our Bitsy too
Declared themselves themselves anew,
Diving in the reddish blue
Of that hungry hole and –

That we were strangers once
Is deeply strange to think.
Weren’t you always there?
I say I saw you in the blink.

You somehow never doubted
The impossible parts of me,
Which makes me strangely wonder
How I could ever be
When those bits were not believed.

Maybe you made me real.
Might be a steep climb to fulfill
But I’d bury my heart in that hill.

One way or another
Now that I’m here
I believe in you
Even though I fear
You may be a ghost
Or even worse a mirror.

A reflection is a lesson
On real and really not.
You must be the misdirection
To see what Truth you’ve got.

I followed a cat to see what he did,
Followed and stalked and stealthily hid.
After some mischief and three weeks of sleep
He yawned at the world and sank to his keep.
I watched him pull out a thicker dog suit
Along with two pairs of bigger paw boots.
He put it all on in a great furry fog
And with a wag of his tail that cat was a dog!
That new dog got up and swaggered on out,
Leaving me in a pile of “What’s this all about?”
When I noticed some scales, then feathers, a fin,
That beast had other beast suits by the bin!
But when I saw a human suit I froze,
‘Cause an old possibility was no longer closed.
I tugged at myself to see if I gave,
This was the time to dig deep and be brave.
I looked in the mirror and to my small surprise
Found myself staring straight into wolf eyes.
I had to get off one howl at the moon
And then dug deeper – Emu! Tortoise! Raccoon!
I never knew how much of me was down here!
Next was a snake! Eagle! Mouse deer!
I found bugs below slugs under bugs!
I was made up of many animal hugs!
I had to find out – how deep did I go?
I keep on digging so someday I’ll know.

Illustration by Angel.

Drawn by Anodracs.

It’s a really silly world
That will tell you who to be.

A hilly kind of silly
That’s lost all its pretty lilies
And so has turned real chilly.

A confused, confounded, quilly world
That fills me with the willies.

But, above all, silly.

You’re already you.

I’m already me.

Who else would we be?

When Different came a-knocking
And said, “It’s time to change,”
We found it all sho- shocking
And shrieked, “You’ve gone deranged!”

True enough, but so had we,
So against leaving our range.

The known is past, different’s the key,
The future’s in the strange.

A little boy was lonely
He felt new kinds of lowly
So he left his holy home he
Went out with highest hope he
Asked the stoic stonies
“Are you friend or phony?”

Now stones do all things slowly
Their thoughts are not all flowy
They’re not any sort of showy
Even though he listened closely
Those stones were just too low key
To hear they were not foe-y.

So he asked a poky pony
“Sir would you like to know me?”
And it neighed a handsome “Nopee!”

The boy did not turn mopey
Did not go groany moany
Would not let himself get toady
Nor at all roly poly
Indeed he kept quite woe free
Instead he set out boldly.

He’s not alone although he
Feels very very lonely
He looks for fellow cronies
And we’ll keep an eye out won’t we?

Illustration by Cromuncho whose art can be found on Instagram.

Part I

The skies were roaring gray
When Kew walked out his gate.
It took all his life up to that day,
Just barely short of, oh, too late,
But still he found his fate.

He stepped into the gracious Storm,
Stepped into her at last.
His business done and past
He finally reached his finest form,
She pulled him to pieces fast.

The Storm invites all in
To her push and pull and spin.
She’ll fight you fully as a friend,
I recommend the wind.

Illustration by MB who posts her art on Instagram.

Part II

Storm hugged him tight in her mad swirl,
She’s a vicious loving girl.
Kew’s will and hands were now unfurled,
Sent back to Mount Abirlakurled
Whose roots held up the whirling world.

Every piece of you is you
And every piece of Kew is Kew,
His hands and will from this old hill
Had made him strong and now fulfilled
Their promise to return renewed.

The Storm invites all in
To her push and pull and spin.
Slip your fear and go for wonder,
Head straight for her thunder.

Part III

Kew moved forward with his Storm
As she went calling worms.
Forward now to build and learn,
His friendly nature took its turn
In tickling tendrils of a river fern.

He got his invite to a riverbank,
Befriended all who came his way,
Grew up rocks, trees – he wouldn’t stay
In place, spreading like spilled ink!
One more successful link.

The Storm invites all in
To her push and pull and spin.
Give in and go agog,
Melt into the fog.

Part IV

Kew’s toes went down to tread
Night sky as newest stars.
Storm pushed apart the threads
Of oddest thoughts up in his head
And set them aside in jars.

While those thoughts are all of ours,
From the best to the worst,
From the blessed to the cursed,
She cherishes the most bizarre
And she did have them first.

The Storm invites all in
To her push and pull and spin.
She’s as giving as she’s frightening,
You can live on her lightning.

Part V

Storm sends herself out from her skies,
She spins herself into the crowd,
That’s why there’s lightning in your eyes,
Why there’s thunder in the wise
And bunnies in the clouds.

Kew is in and is both me and you,
Yet we’re our own and different beasts.
It’s how the old can make things new,
How the never been comes true
And how we matter, every piece.

The Storm invites all in
To her push and pull and spin.
Beautifully unconstrained,
It’s easy to love in the rain.

(Read Part I, Part II, Part III and Part IV.)

Storm sends herself out from her skies,
She spins herself into the crowd,
That’s why there’s lightning in your eyes,
Why there’s thunder in the wise
And bunnies in the clouds.

Kew is in and is both me and you,
Yet we’re our own and different beasts.
It’s how the old can make things new,
How the never been comes true
And how we matter, every piece.

The Storm invites all in
To her push and pull and spin.
Beautifully unconstrained,
It’s easy to love in the rain.