It is a happy place
A safe place
Where everyone knows
The language of a smile
Lifelines fragile
But there is hope
Found for today
Relief from being distraught
Settle in with scatter
Tools of trade at hand
Gather and remember
Avoiding useless chatter
That’s not to say we won’t
Talk when it matters
or even doesn’t
While we’re here
Inner spirit which
We feel is whole
In our fractured bodies
Unfolds on canvas
A venture into
The unpredictable
An arena of creativity
Coming from the soul
No one can say
Birds of a feather
But we peck away
With no pecking order
We are of common clay
With glitter added
And just enough stardust
To make us feel that we matter
Stanski
December 17, 2019 ^
Steve Haarman 