Come, my child, into the empty chamber
Of my heart and pick up the chalk you will
Find there scattered among the sharp-edged stones.
Draw all you know that’s wrong on the four
Dark walls around you; then clap the chalk dust
From your hands into a cloud of many colors:
We will watch together as it settles
Full of grace like leaves of autumn sugar
Maples on the stick figures of our fears.
Comfort & Joy
