Looking Back

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To keep on moving forward
sometimes you need to look back,
and remembering where you came from
can help you stay on track.
 
It’s hard to know where you’re going
when you don’t know where you’ve been,
cause sometimes the road is circular,
and your back where you started again.
 
If you can make peace with yourself
you can run without being hounded,
and honor what you’ve been through,
cause to fly, first you have to be grounded.
 
So don’t forget where you came from
and everything you’ve been through,
cause the hurts and  the joys that leave their marks
are the things that make you you.
 
To keep on moving forward
sometimes you need to look back,
and remembering where you came from
can help you stay on track.
Picture and words by Mary Bach.

Bedtime stories

Somewhere out in Nowhere Land a songbird waits for me,
and sings of things that never were, and that will never be.
I’m smitten with the music that he warbles sweet and clear.
He’s in the treetops high above, and yet he sounds so near;
and if I close my eyes and rest
I feel wings flutter in my chest
and magic places far away in space and time seem near,
like they’re more real than my home, and what’s around me here.

Princes bright and dragons bold fight battles round my bed,
and giant ogres want to grind my bones to make their bread.
Witches cackle, donkeys bray and cats wear leather boots,
Children run through forests, and play tunes on magic flutes.
Then knights and trolls and goats come out to skip across the floor,
and Irish women selling clams clap hands and call for more.
So bears and pigs and wolves join paws and dance ‘round in a ring,
and mermaids swim up to the shore to hear the sirens sing.
Old men grow young, and strong and straight,
whilst black birds argue and debate.

And it does not seem strange to me; I do not feel perplexed.
I shake my head and laugh and wait, to see what happens next.
Then the moon smiles down at me and asks me to come swim.
The stars agree. ”The air is fine,” they say, “so come on in.”
I dip my toe into the sky, and it does feel just right
and so I close my eyes and dive head-long in to the night.

This originally appeared  Writing in the Bachs.