Soaring

SOARING!

Long ago, when we were monkeys,

We could soar! We could soar!

We could travel through the jungle trees

And not hit the jungle floor!

We could hang by tails as thin as string

And never lose our grip.

We could scuttle over dripping leaves

And never ever slip.

We could leap through open spaces

Far as the eye could see,

Between one tree and another

In the lofty canopy.

We could drop like stones from up above

And bounce on lower limbs.

We could skim across the greenery

As a stone over water skims.

You've seen them all on the TV,

The monkeys and their soaring.

They can leap and hang and swing all day

And never find it boring.

We had it once, in the dead, dead past,

That wild agility,

But we traded it in for upright stance

And verbal ability.

Yet, still, within us, way down deep,

There's a memory of it all;

A little comes back when we're dancing;

Then we really 'have a ball.'

But somewhere buried in our brians

Lies the feeling that we, too,

Should be able to leap up gracefully

And soar into the blue.

*

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                     Brenda Bryant

CANDLE-LIGHT!

The light of the sun is harmful,

The light of the moon is pale,

While electric light

On a stormy night

Can very often fail.

An oil lamp may sometimes flicker

And neon lights give no cheer.

But candle-light

Is exactly right;

It creates an atmosphere.

Candle-light's kind to wrinkles;

I know that is the truth.

Old faces soften

And, very often,

Renew the look of youth.

Candle-light casts the shadows

That make the world brand new;

The fairy gloom

Of a flame-lit room

Can make one's dreams come true.

There's nothing brash or modern

About the candle-glow,

An old-world charm

Makes us feel more calm

And we find ourselves speaking low.

So insist on the light of candles

To brighten up your night.

Let hearts beat quicker

At each warm flicker.

Love loves candle-light.

*