The Merry Prankster

Be the light

If you will

I will be the darkness

The place where things may rest

and grow

slow, soft, eye-clo

Sing, comfort and restoration

A place to dream

Without the bounds of the visible

A place to come undone

And be remade

Be the known and the knowable

If you will

I will be the mystery

The elusive, the ever changing

The fluid flow of the river to the sea

Never itself, always itself

Ever old and new

The race of blood

Pulse

Entering the rock maw

The cave, the passage, the plummet

from the cliff

down.

Be the dance

If you will

I will be the mis-step

The foot the crushed your toes

The leap

that took you off the stage

The pirouette

that went awry

You found yourself alone

The world

dancing

on

And you were free

To weave against the cadence

Any way you will

Or to soft-step-tip-toe peek behind the red velvet curtain...

Be the melody

If you will

I will be the discord

The startling keen

of wind between the feathers of the rising raptor

that draws your consciousness to the force unseen

the high pitched shriek

of chalk against the board

Waking the sleeping student from their bovine reverie

And contemplation of warm polished wood,

daydreams,

and dust

Be as you should

If you will

I will be

always

something else

Not to rebel for the sake of that noble art

But to always offer

As a sacrament

The blank page

The space

for infinite possibility