FOR ALL THE KIDS IN THE NEST

The Chickens in The Barn are restless
The Kids are quiet
The Dog sighs as the Human sleeps
His head on his Master's lap
His Master's head on his laptop.
His lick wakes him up
Time to change the storyline, says The Pup.
Don't make a sound. You'll scare The Chickens in The Barn
Time to meet up with Your True Maker again
Out on the street, not on your keyboard
Time to take a walk
Besides, I need to take a pee.
But its early in the morning, Little Bear
Its cold out there.
I know its not yet Winter but
The rain sounds like sleet. Its too cold.
Must I pray again for soft rain, for warmth?
For glorious sunlight? Who knows? I don't want to.
Stop whining, Little Bear said with his eyes
And listen to me. Write your story from the inside out
Where its always warm
Where your heart is reborn, twice its size!
(Once you poke your head outside.)
The stairways you create wind up and down without staircases anyway
Hard to climb these stepping-up to nowhere steps
Man-made hills of concrete and stone
Mountains made out of molehills
Fantasies wound up in messages to the children
Teaching them all the social lessons
Seizing them bump and grind from
Horsy-making war-mongering preying on their spine
Making paper dragons out
Of their own makings.

While The Children Laugh and Conquer Time.

Learning to step lightly among the adults
In spite of all their phrasings
Winding their own way one way or another up and down the steps
For their staircases are not made of finest marble,
But of sweet-smelling flowers, licorice root, rhythm and rhyme.
Adults will get the message eventually, the older children replied
As they slowly climbed back up The Ladder
Making the rounds once more in their own playground made of sky.

:bump: :coffee4: