To sail in the sweet stream of creative bliss and painless dreams
of sanity and healthy days, slow nights of languid moonbeams.
If I could hold that moment, where nothing hurts, where the next day
promises to be even brighter, even kinder but in the very same way,
I’d call you on the telephone to jump into your jet-plane, fly on down to play.
Wasted minutes tie us up, prisoners of inertia’s knots, “ Don’t act! Don’t move!
Stay where you are, don’t learn, don’t grow, find some excuse to not improve.
Don’t take a chance, don’t trust your instincts crying out, why that’s insane…
If I could send that invitation against my fears, then you could ride that plane,
and finally make the leap of life, that comes but once and changes everything.
My limiting condition, like a root bound plant, keeps me focused in one place.
I’ve learned to harness inner freedom, with waves of sunlight on my face.
You know we grow with each goodbye with each hello that comes and goes,
If we don’t resist, say yes, to that open door that swings ahead, who knows?
We could be counting stars in an indigo night, hands held tight, entangling toes.
To dream inside creative bliss, to twist and mold the old, we fabricate the new.
We’ve always been sorcerers, who make something from nothing and watch it come true.
Old hands at the wheel of digital life in a time when this age rebirths itself to be
a time when people will put greed before art and even art becomes an NFT.
Hop on a plane, or take a train, the time for real is really here; I hope that you agree.
Dec. 19, 2021