Imagination

When I was a little girl
My imagination invented
People, places, stories, names
Of things I’d never heard of
But dreamed of, in the light of day.

As I got older, my imagination was channeled
Into art classes, science fair projects
Hot cross buns on recorders and xylophones
Story contests for stuffed animals with
Rules and guidelines.

And later on, my overactive imagination
Pruned short and neat by essays
With more rules and regulations
I’d carefully abide by to the point that
What I’d write would always be the limit.

Now I’m here, my imagination
Kempt, perfected, channeled
So others can understand
Back it all up with references
And quantify beauty, wonder, mystery.

I know that in childhood, we were ALL
Pioneers of wisdom, problem solvers
Philosophers, but keep in mind that
Experience really dictates whether
We are smart enough to be heard.

So I attempt to break my indoctrination
Dance like I never did in ballet
Jazz the clarinet so my fifth-grade-band-teacher
Would simply cringe, and write
True to myself, always asking WHY.

I woke up to birds singing

Strings vibrate
the Universe resonates
like the heavenly spheres.

To know truth
is not to know science,
it is to guess to what cadence
the Goddess' footsteps
fall.

To know beauty
is not to serve vanity, or transient physical interests;
it is to understand harmony
and all it entails.

If you must ask yourself about meaning
it betrays only that you havent yet loved
the melody your own life traces.

And for it to come together
you must make a decision:
from what instrument shall I pour my destiny?