Whales and wallabies, amaze like wireless, long distance phone calls.
Every step in these shoes feel like I’m walking on marshmallows.
We scrub the freshly glazed windows until they gleam prophetically.
The first prismatic leaves float down, bravely launching into the leap.
The hair brush disentangles chaos one bristle and strand at a time.
Glossy oil paint, gloppy and glistening, is slathered on liberally.
Frisky colts scamper and whinny on the moist, foggy morning.
Smooth chestnuts emerge from their popped open, prickly shells.
Red bell peppers roast to bright crimson, straight from the garden.
Lime green waves waltz through my yummy mojito yogurt.
Anticipation of things to come fulfills with mercy, comfort, and joy.
Hope, on tendrils of gratitude, is reliably strident and revolutionary.
Gray makes every other color look more luminous and incandescent.
Simultaneous contrast counterbalances atmospheric perspective.
Satisfaction is riveted to this place, right now, and nowhere else.
Possibilities beckon us onward to where we can be useful.
Sensations condense and encourage curiosity and inquiry.
Structured contemplation compels a collaboration with action.
Through purpose we recognize and realize what we’ve yet to consider.
To be genuinely intrigued, we must shed anything unlike ourselves.
Skillful application demands passionate, open-ended exploration.
The threads that connect us are stitched with clarity and kindness.
Boredom ignites and operates like cosmic jet fuel for creativity.
We need to be busy being newly born, always astonished.
Other alternatives are non-existent; these insist instead.
by Polly Castor
October 10, 2021