My Private Wobegon

stories from home

Her name was Lucy Rose,
she'd stand high upon her toes
to see the highest sights that she could see.

She'd say:
"T'would be truly grand to float high above the land,
and ride upon some fairy's zephyr breeze".

but more often than not
she didn't see a lot
as she could not tell the forest from the trees.

One evening while at home
she came upon a tome
of antiquarian mysteries.
Now turning page to page
she went backward to an age
where dreams were real
and not just reveries.

She read about gold spinning
and underwater swimming,
where even with the fishes one could breathe!
With fauna one could walk
converse in magic talk
and learn the secrets of things she could not even see.

But through all this tall tale telling
to her the most compelling
was the teaching of external buoyancy.

For deep within this book
hidden well behind each verbal nook,
was the very thing she'd dreamt of since age three.

Here within her hand
she held an old and moldering plan,
containing all the ancient
METH-O-DOL-O-GY.

HERE!
What she'd been craving
that dream
that hope
that raving
was within her grasp
if only,
she
would
read.

For through each weighty word
she'd know the secrets of the birds
and every insect
from butterfly,
to bee.

The days and weeks passed by
Lucy Rose was not seen outside,
for she devoured every page front to back.

( She even did stop eating,
though this madness was quite fleeting
the day her mother made a macaroni pie.)

So study well she did
for education was her bid
to advancing towards the skill she longed to earn.

And after much notation
on the obliterating
of obfuscation,
the day had come to practice
what she'd learned.

The secret was in breathing
in all that she'd been reading,
the one conclusive fact was in the air.

By learning how to breathe
one gathered strength as well as ease,
with concentration
one
could
rise.

By being very still
and centering all of her will,
she knew her limitations she'd dissolve.

For when her mind was quiet
there'd be no external riot
that could shake her concentration from her word.

Only by pursuing
this existential slewing
of all the outside demons of the earth,
could she then find deep inside
a lasting peace
to confide
to all the other peoples
who yearned secretly to fly.

Who held fast to this earth
by old wounds, wars and hurts
could not see the whole worlds beauty
for their blinding
pride.

But,
if one to one another
more like sister to a brother
could confide their secret
till all 'round the globe,
there would not be a one
left as some forgotten son
rather all would live as in a great, warm home.

For the secret is this:

Heaven
is here on earth,
when we recognize our worth
that its strengthened by each separate part of the whole.

That no thought or different notion
could divide us as an ocean,
if we sought each others hand at every turn.

And just as Lucy Rose had stood high upon her toes,
we'd yearn to realize the fantastic.

By combining all our dreaming
we'd discard mischievous scheming,
and look above the highest trees
towards the sky.

Perhaps then
we'd learn with ease
to dream
and then
to breathe
and together,
we'd rise upon the air
and fly.

For more information about her writing and painting projects contact Katherine Hill at cosmickitee@msn.com.