Cousins:
Fan the fires of your lives,
These short and storied lives —
The fires that are everything
We are.
Neighbors:
Use the colors as you will,
Be where and what you will —
And let your hearts know motion, and
Know still.
There was a time
Another time and place,
Before the spoken rules,
The rules that say
To show instead of tell,
And whose experience
Is even worth
A hearing —
But ignorance
Can earn a fine degree,
And still be ignorance;
For where you’ve been
You’ve learned
Through cuts and shearing —
Denizens:
These fires are your right,
Your inborn, sacred right —
You must not let some other
Write your songs.
And critics:
Do not kid yourselves at last,
There always comes “at last” —
The microscope gets turned around
On you