Flags are flying. Poem majorettes are twirling. Poem players are marching - some in order, some not. Everyone is out in the sunshine waving, watching, wondering.
Did I mention wishing, remembering, and celebrating!? Kids, moms and dads, guys hanging out on the corner, girls giggling and pointing, grandcouples smiling, everyone is glad to be here and ready for more.
Old standbys, new friends. Form and formless. Figure and ground. Noise and silence. Whispers, exclamations. Narrative and abstract. Colorful and wildly monochromatic. Serious (ahem) and not so. Big words, small ones. But, plenty of them. Or, not.
Welcome to the parade. Every day is a holiday. Everything, an occasion.
I am always ready to play along
And trace the picture here before us
Two trees amidst the wilderness
Two birches in the forest
The moon shines down
Through leaf and limb
It's raining down upon us
And sings so sweetly in the dark
To you, Ignatz, addunnis
You merry mouse
You show yourself
Not through words
But through your actions
With your bricks of love
A home we'll build
A shelter from all factions
And of datchord
Of one and
For me, there's you
That's all there is
There isn't any other
- Ted Ringer
And now, a blast from the Past.
Spilling themselves in the sun bluebirds
wing-mention their names all day. If everything
told so clear a life, maybe the sky would
come, maybe heaven; maybe appearance and
truth would be the same. Maybe whatever seems
to be so, we should speak so from our souls,
never afraid, "Light" when it comes,
"Dark" when it goes away.
- William Stafford