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Come with me, My Love

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The best part of Prairie Fest is the children,
Hands-down– jumping dancing cart-wheeling around
As though nuclear weapons don’t exist.

Kids outside in grass are in their purest form.
Not told to behave or be quiet or be still
They are free to teach the adults how to live.

A few already know. They wear bare feet
Instead of sneakers and are possessed
By bodies that move. Last year

Through swarm of bees it was just three
Of us who kept dancing. The crowd
Fell to the ground but our arms

Reached for the sky. Big smile. Awe.
I forgot the song but will never forget the high
Of being so close to God. No fear. Unstung. Just kissed.

This year we missed the bees.
Less people. Tom Waits drowning
In a Sea of Love between bands

Against the sunset. Each time we leave
I want to ride the merry-go-round but
It never has space for more happy.

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