DREAM STRINGS

DREAM STRINGS

Dream Strings

Delicate, dreamy threads that each of us - all of us - weave together to become our reality. These are baby steps we take to make our dreams come true...sending the email query, printing the photographs we hope to exhibit, or breaking ground on a replica of a sharecropper shack in Clarksdale, MS.



The tapestry of our dream life is woven with Dream Strings.


~ Q U O T E S ~

What is not started today is never finished tomorrow. Goethe

The only joy in the world is to begin. Pavese

I want every day to be a fresh start on expanding what is possible. Oprah





Monday, February 16, 2009

Inaugural Poem

I thought this was just so beautiful, I had to copy it here and share it, in the event you missed this.


Praise Song for the Day
by Elizabeth Alexander

Each day we go about our business,
walking past each other, catching each other's
eyes or not, about to speak or speaking.

All about us is noise. All about us is
noise and bramble, thorn and din, each
one of our ancestors on our tongues.

Someone is stitching up a hem, darning
a hole in a uniform, patching a tire,
repairing the things in need of repair.

Someone is trying to make music somewhere,
withh a pair of wooden spoons on an oil drum,
with cello, boom box, harmonica, voice.

A woman and her son wait for the bus.
A farmer considers the changing sky.
A teacher says, Take out your pencils. Begin.

We encounter each other in words, words
spicy or smooth, whispered or declaimed,
words to consider, reconsider.

We cross dirt roads and highways that mark
the will of some one and then others, who said
I need to see what's on the other side.

I know there's something better down the road.
We need to find a place where we are safe.
We walk into that which we cannot yet see.

Say it plain: that many have died for the day.
Sing the names of the dead who brought us here,
who laid the train tracks, raised the bridges,

picked the cotton and the lettuce, built
brick by brick the glittering edifices
they would then keep clean and work inside of.

Praise song for the struggle, praise song for the day.
Praise song for the every hand-lettered sign,
the figuring-it-out at the kitchen tables.

Some live by love thy neighbor as thyself,
others by first do no harm or take no more
than you need. What if the mightiest word is love?

Love beyond martial, filial, national,
love that casts a widening pool of light,
love with no need to pre-empt grievance.

In today's sharp sparkle, this winter air,
any thing can be made, any sentence begun.
On the brink, on the brim, on the cusp.

praise song for the walking forward in that light.

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