The Greatest

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Our colors, like water…like oxygen…work well together…like art from artists, were we to work in earnest.

What say you, America — will we work on love, on great…’fore the hour becomes late?

Original Thought Credit:
“…the greatest of these is love.” -1 Corinthians 13:13
“When America ceases to be good, she will cease to be great.” -Alexis de Tocqueville

Moment Lovers

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Step one, get weird with it. This belongs to you all, after all.

Step two, present yourselves all ways, every day, at the same time.

Step five, step five?! Yes, step five — there’s nothing linear or logical of this.

Step five, show the canvas of man what these years of kinship mean.

Step six, dip your brush in cool, cool water, then choose the color violet. Or orchid, because you are bold, or you want to be.

Step three, make a space in advance, or in the moment, or not at all. The whole Earth was prepared for you.

Step four, never end before you’ve finished, or for forever, whichever comes first. Last.

Step seven, relay your love for The All of them. Take responsibility and fight again tomorrow with the sunrise.

Aura Again

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Swim away back

Into the deep, deep color of you

Wear your aura again

Be breathing

Envisioning

Let loose the back muscles that constrain you

Go deeper to come higher

Think cinematographically all along

Your spirit animal and apex instinct

Cameras rolling, claim it

Dash of Laughter

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A sweet little joint
Sometimes rockin’

Right now, not
A bit too quiet for me
But it’s the eve of Sunday eve

The neighbors and I are done in the yards
Rolling up the sidewalks
Thinking about what to cook for Sunday supper

Here tonight, it’ll be your favorite
Anything I’d prepare, you said
So shall it be

Lots of color, but only a dash of laughter
We’ve run low since you’ve gone

This sweet little joint of a home
Why did you burn it down?

Something Gardens

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A sunny day

On this, the fore-edge of Spring

It looks like something good happens here

In this, the place they renamed, “Something Gardens”

Although I see really only billboards and bungalows and bulldozed-over housing projects

And strangely, no gardens

But there is the color and promise upon everyone’s skin

The special sauce in people’s blood

So I become sure

I plan to see the Something Good that happens here -those “Something Gardens” that mean to grow

So I stay and I work

I help

I sow, that someone else may reap

I wait

And I see that I, too, grow