Ah, but let us show you how to live!
We own in full what we have,
And we never long for Friday.
For Friday is just like Monday,
Oh we of little frame,
Fit fine, stand tall in the cracks of trees.
Sprawled upon the grasses.
The hot springs steeps our tea,
We leave no carbon footprint,
For we tiptoe on little feet.
I place a flower in my ear,
And your hand in mine.
For I’d flutter into waterfalls
If a daydream grows to thick,
And you softly squeeze it.
For you would never speak of ladybugs,
Or humming birds in common conversation.
Never starving artist, for we feast on what our father has made
Infinite of beauty.
This poem is about my reaction to the protest and gufaws at the die hard simplicity my husband and I attempt to maintain. Green is in but sadly simple joy and the appreciation of nature, human experiences and connection is not. So, if you see a petite, brown skinned cellist busking on a street corner near you, give her a hug. If it is not me, I am sure she won’t mind. If she does…it will give you something to write about.
© 2018, Ursula Jacobs