Like caterpillars
Able to crawl out cocoon    
As a butterfly

Brush across my face,
tossing my hair,
a call from the sky I want to embrace,
looking up all I can do is stare.

Wash away my worries,
lift me up from the ground,
tell me your stories,
tell me while you’re still around.

I will wait for you to return,
when you run past me I feel nothing but free,
a short moment with you is all I yearn,
it is my simple plea.

Little girl, little girl, you have never been here before.
Older sis, daddy, mommy, and you walk through the door.

Little girl, little girl, this will be your new home.
Your family goes one way and you go the other and roam.  

Little girl, little girl, you find a small room.
It has a set of stairs, that makes your curiosity bloom.

Little girl, little girl, run and grab you sister so you both can have fun up there.
As you come back with sister in hand, you see the stairs are not here.

Little girl, little girl, grow up in this house that brings a chill to your bones.
Grow up and always wonder what would have happened if you went up alone.

It is beyond quiet for even the pen does not speak as it falls.
There is me and hardly that for my memories gone.
My name, family, friends, what I have done in life, I do not even care to recall.
There is my target, it was a goner once the silence was switched on.

I ask the tree who for hundreds of years has been around,
because his roots are strong and firm under the ground,
to teach me how to stand tall when I am alone and feel small,
that way no lumber men can make me fall.

I ask the river that stretches from sea to sea,
because her water doesn't know how to be nothing but free,
to teach how to keep going when I am stuck and don’t know what to do,
that way no boulder can stop me from the path I wish to pursue.

I ask the bird that is both strong on the ground as he is in the air,
because his eyes see that it is the ground that has the meal that he wishes to ensnare,
to teach how to observe my surroundings when life is at an ultimate high,
that way no doubts are in my mind that I can survive when my high life says goodbye.

I ask the sky who has beautiful stars, sunsets, and rainbows,
because she also has fierce storms that give many people halos,
to teach me how gain inner peace and balance when life is like a bumpy ride,
that way no bad weather forecast can make me hide.  

I ask my imagination to stay nearby,
that way I can ask more than just the tree, river, bird and sky.

Dirt brown washes in with roof top shingle gray.
Arms they are , long, slender arms.
Growing out of each, is another arm
and another arm
and another
and another.
Each growing out shorter and more slender.
Each a part of the same being yet,
Each has its’ own mind.
A mind with the same goal.
“GROW”
So delicate these arms are.
Pushed so easily by the wind.
That won't stop them though.
No, they will grow.
They grow and grow and grow.
As they grow the arms will embrace the wind and sway in the most elegant way.
Then when these long slender arm reach their goals end, they will grow again.
They will grow a hand.
A hand with fingers flat and pointed oval shaped.
Unlike the arms the fingers will be green.
A green that is as if a paintbrush mixed a lime and seaweed into one.
Now one day whether the arms know it or not it’s fingers will change.
Its’ fingers will change colors.
Colors of an unorthodox bipolar rainbow.
Then when the colors of the this rainbow reach an end the fingers will fall.
Each and every one will fall, fall,  fall.
That is okay though because the time will come when
those fingers will
GROW
again.

Twinkle twinkle big bright moon,
You’re turning red like a **** of a baboon.
Or maybe it’s the blood of the man on you,
His fishing hook stabbed him right through.
Twinkle twinkle big bright moon,
This red looks really good on you.