focused
her eyes like the sun
stare
down at the snowy blanket
eager
to make it black

she
grabs a branch and
creates
a world of her own

You ask us to follow You
To fracture the foolishness that unmercifully undermines us
Why are we persistent in our poisonous pride
And obdurately grasp the darkness that destroys us
The deafening depression, the hardened hatred, the conflicting chaos
When You are the light that gives us hope
The One who can bring us back to life
You create wonders out of nothing
Surely You can make something out of us
What You have to offer is so much more
Than what we must relinquish

Close your eyes,
And start to dream.
Let go the world,
And float downstream.

Enter the darkness,
Now start to create.
Start with the land,
Then water, now wait!

What about light?
And how 'bout it's source?
You can't live in the dark,
Unless you want to of course.

Now start placing plants.
Think of shape, colour, size.
This is your world,
Make your plants rise!

Now mess with the land.
Do what you want.
Make mountains or valleys,
This is your jaunt.

Hang up the moon,
(or two if you want),
Then throw in some stars.
This is your place to flaunt.

Remember some creatures,
Just make them weird.
Some cute or scaled,
Or some to be feared.

Now to finish it off,
It needs a ruler (that's you).
Now if you'll excuse me,
I've my own world too.

You are your own worst enemy,
You illustrate your destiny,
You decide your fate,
You create.
I make my own mistakes,
I ensue my heartbreaks,
I choose the rate,
I create.
We take anything we need,
We decide who takes the lead,
We make the world dissapate,
Yet we have the tools to create.

before we dissolve
there is much to be solved
we all live in a world of doubt
looking within is the only way out
find your divinity and
your tribe in your vicinity
come together to create
the opposite of hate
before it's too late

Let the beauty and pain of the world spill over the coffee table and onto the floor.
Use the raw materials to construct a reason-
a reason for why my mother tells me
what her grandmother told her:
"Like cream you will rise to the top".
Make something of yourself out of the chaos
and jagged edges of the world.
Let the bits and pieces of reality loose
to align in nothing but piles and small bits.
Then tediously right all wrongs,
in steady and purposeful motions,
until you are but dust and granules yourself.

We're all authors
Typewriters
Pens
Pencils
Erasers.
We have stacks upon stacks of paper
Piling high
Of what we wish could happen
&
Of what really did happen.
We're all painters
Palettes
Paintbrushes
Tubes of endless
Reds
Blues
Greens
Blacks
Yellows
Whites
& in betweens.
We try to make a prettier picture
Of what's in front of us.
Try to take something ordinary
And make it other worldly.
We're all photographers
Polaroids
Camcorders
Film strips
Memory cards.
We capture the moment
And
Lock them in our hearts
Imprint them upon our brains
Because we don't want to forget.
We are all artists.
Because we each have visions
And create them
In order for others to see what we see
And
Feel what we feel.