i wanted to write a blues song
of love lost from a child's dream of family
but a gospel uplift rang out instead...
Where is the dream?
Sweetness and childhood magic
don't have to be banished
though the path is tangled
the story, not straightforward
when mom and dad aren't Cindy and Charming.
There is still a soft miraculous place called home
there may be two, or more.
Strong people bigger than you
will hold you in your best light,
with most respect, and help feed all parts of you
so you can grow, grow, grow,
a vibrant medicinal weed,
a flower of waving direction,
a root hearty and deep.
And from that place, we grow, grow, grow
til one day we're the big people
facing our little ones with most respect,
kneeling humbly to their tiny greatness,
and walking the path together,
finding how the tree struck by lightning
still grows as long and strong,
just in a different direction.
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