I Once Heard an Ode
I once heard an ode to the Persistence of nimble dreams Cavorting about as Children along banks flush with white. It said that the creek of daily sorrows Had been frozen in time, That its ripples had now crystallized into a Colorful panoply of sagittate leaves all pointing in Different directions, without destination, Or with a view to all of them.
It said that magic no longer treads solely in the Fertile garden of green minds, But in little eyes scintillating with anticipation And unconditional wonderment, In homes warmed by the sustained flicker of Sprightly, ruddy-faced harmonies, In the way you peer out of the window to Capture a distant gegenshein winking back at you, Reminding you of that time when the Impetuous laughter of innocence never had to knock.
It also said that a child is born In all of us. And then reborn.
Art: “Christmas Candle Light” Wayne Pascall