A child's muse

Like a child's toy 
brings joy, amusement, comfort...

we play the blues, reflections perhaps 
of precious moments we learn to fly

or an instant replay of something good ...or bad
happening that day

role play for ideas lost and found

intentions raised, in mind 
though, not yet followed through

things the universe has cast our way
in the ocean of things to do...

of things missed
or dissed

or circumstantial currents
set in motion

emotions triggered from cues
real or imagined

some, with a flourish 
of spontaneous chatter
and witty comebacks  

others
lost at the moment of impact

smoldering in the ashes
written off 

or abandoned in place
without even favorable mention

unspoken

a chain of events
lost or broken

we enter a void...
(The proverbial Blues)

a place where we get put in a spotlight
ready or not

Alone...

we may or may not be
able to fathom

So we get annoyed

frustrated... We storm

hurl insults and profane expletives
with thunderous angry, anguished cries  

distracted
uncaring, if we live or die...

trying to shake the demon off our back

or being consumed by rage
of the demon inside

When, on the outside
the struggle continues

The magic never gets old... 
just wiser 

in remembrance of how easy it is 
with the blues chasing our dreams

as the meanings gleam 
like the tears in a child's eyes 

...wondering. 

Where love grows how will it find its way back 

when its not at all clear
where it has gone 

when hard times come 

and all our heroes 
seem to be losing 
faith in the dream... 

but always seem 
to find their way back to us, 
when most needed. 

And the seeds of the next come to us... 
just as nature intends for us to see. 

Like seasons change 
and prayers answered 

C2