She gathers <br />the world <br /> <br />into her <br />consciousness <br /> <br />holds its facts <br />like a beautiful blue <br /> <br />bunch <br />of wild flowers <br /> <br />clutched <br />tightly in her tiny fist. <br /> <br />All is alive <br />to her <br /> <br />whether it be sky <br />cloud or river...whatever. <br /> <br />Nothing is ever <br />only a thing. <br /> <br />Everything <br />is <br /> <br />“...peoples! ” <br /> <br />We visit & re-visit <br />the old pond <br /> <br />full of <br />“frog peoples” <br /> <br />who greet her <br />ecstatically <br /> <br />as if <br />she were one of their own. <br /> <br />She waves regally. <br /> <br />Speaks to them <br />fluently in frog. <br /> <br />Even stones become <br />“...the stone peoples! ” <br /> <br />She likes them <br />“...’cos they are so quiet! ” <br /> <br />“Their quiet is like a big noise in my head! ” <br /> <br />That night <br />trying to smuggle <br /> <br />her favourite cat <br />into her bed <br /> <br />snuggled up inside <br />her jumper <br /> <br />as if she were <br />pregnant with it <br /> <br />(it scratching & meowing <br />to be born) <br /> <br />she announces <br />(caught in the act) <br /> <br />“Cats is peoples too! ” <br /> <br />We give in to <br />her superior logic <br /> <br />seeing things <br />as she do.<br /><br />Dónall Dempsey<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/peoples-for-lyn/
