Tuesday, March 27, 2012

squatch thoughts, fore

step long, live tall
Little one, come! Little one take hold. My hand to you, my words to you. Touch that hand, hold them words. Listen!

Men seek what little ones hold. Men can’t touch what they dream to see. Men reach with plaster and inches. Men see trees but scratch their chin with fingers; men see leaves, not green clouds. Men beat the ground flat, little one; the homeground beaten down! Men don't listen. Men stuff their ears with plaster. 

Listen, little one, listen!

Touch dreams, little one, don’t measure them. Walk with them. Leave inches to men, leave beaten ground. Come! 

Step long, little one, step far.

Leave men, little one, live tall.

(for my friend, jlw)

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