Sticks and Stones

are we lost in time and place
we are pi…lots lost in lots of thoughts
elements encircled in a sphere of programmed fear

Sticks and stones can break our bones can also make our homes
but what words will always do is shape and make and take
you to the where so there
go up to come down up
keep your word and your words become
the who in you you wish to be

The origin…
all stories are in the worded hands of every man and wo…man
so to sea
down down down the little creek runs
running to where it can’t see
so little stick figures go with the flow
water fire and the glow little stick figure builds a
can…oe of you
over falls winter spring summer knows
what grows

in the warmth and cold
it’s a which to all a stirring churning minefield
full of holes
any…one of which will do falling through a do unto you
a be…whiching all comes true which one fills which one swallows
slipping through slots in time lots of tilling towards fulfilling

Little creek runs to the sea
it can’t see
row row row you can oar to a further further
yonder all shall see

The wonder well
where the witcher draws and picks the sticks
that cross his path
is witchery
as old as the stones writes in words that figures learn
a kindling ken transcends and the fire within hones
forging the cutting edge