I open the book Poetic Medicine, The Healing Art of Poem-Making by John Fox.

The page falls to children’s poems.

Richard Lewis wrote that “A child is the privacy of the universe learning to talk to itself.”

First grader Greta Weiss writes:

Inside a bubble

there’s a sea of petals

and a wind of water.


Visions of sugarplums dance in my head.

As Pablo Picasso said: It takes a long time to become young.

May we jiggle, wiggle, jump, land, and pause all along the way.  

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