Linda M. Crate: Poetry

can’t stay small

we are made
of stardust and oceans,
made of earth
and wind;

you expect me
to stay small and not
have big dreams
and aspirations?

i cannot.

because i remember
my place among
the stars,
i am still friends with
the moon;

i know that every
part of me sings
with magic—

i am not here to be caged,
but burn through every
cage they place around me
and my dreams;

i am not serving anyone but me.

---

the small joys

sometimes i get jealous
of the people who
didn’t know the sting of death
until they were in their twenties,

i’ve been attending funerals
since i was five;

known that life was a temporary thing
with no definite timeline my whole
life—

i think that’s why it is important to
enjoy the little things:
friends birthdays, flowers blooming,
dogs who love you, cats who love you,
the beauty of an old or young tree,
wind dancing through your hair,
moonlight over the water,
sunshine dancing through the blinds
of your window to warm your skin,
the laughter of children,
sights of animals you don’t
commonly see, butterflies dancing;

there are so many nightmares
you have to find the small joys—

otherwise you may be crushed
by the brutality of the machine
which wants to bring about your demise.