(Image is an Inspiration Card by Diane Sherman)
Hear me reading this poem to you:
It was yesterday evening, I went for a walk
When I saw this child, playing with chalk
I teased him - hey you, what are you painting
What point are you stating with what you're creating
I stood there and watched as he kept illustrating
Then without looking up he started debating
What do YOU think, he roared, negating, berating
His voice deprecating, frustrating, dictating
I looked at the drawing, a little bit startled
My mind started racing, chaotic and garbled
Who is this boy that demands my attention
I should have kept walking, and spared the contention
A bird, I answered, with slight trepidation
Avoiding a tone that would lead to dissention
Maybe an eagle you chose to contort
Its wings are all mangled, or simply cut short
Is that all you see, he kept on his grilling
What about texture, emotion or feeling
What good are your eyes, if you cannot see
Let go of perception and set your mind free
I stared at the eagle, ignoring his tone
(And the fact he was speaking as if he was grown)
Tell you the truth, I feared for my life
The air was all sticky, smelling of strife
I glared and I gazed, obeying the stricture
I lost track of time, and myself in the picture
And after a while which seemed like forever
Clarity ended the painful endeavor
He's caged, I whispered, he's dying of thirst
His will was submerged, his pleasure dispersed
He's hungry for passion, adventure and risk
Becoming all mighty, boisterous and brisk
What have you drawn?! I turned to the child
Who softened his temper and gave me a smile
I drew what was needed, he answered with glee
Whatever it takes for each person to see
That life is a gift that cannot be taken
This eagle you see, all broken and shaken
All that it takes to free him from pain
Is to ditch the perception that's clouding it's brain
And as he was speaking, the eagle has risen
Shook up his wings and shattered his prison
And with one mighty swoop, he was up in the sky
And I stood there with tears, waving goodbye
And after a second the child disappeared
My eyes gently opened, my vision has cleared
A dream, nothing more, was yesterday's walk
The eagle, the wings, the child with the chalk
I lay there in bed, covered with sweat
My soul has been shaken, my cheeks were still wet
For I was the eagle drawn by the child
Imprisoned by false perceptions I've piled
No more, I mumbled, no longer a slave
To social convention that I must behave
Regardless of what I'm expected to be
Starting today, I'll be nothing but me