by Kristi Shelloner
If I said the sky was green,
would it be green, I wonder?
And if you said the lawn was blue,
would it be blue,
to wander through?
Does it matter what we call things?
Does it matter what they’re named?
If I call you Pam and you are Jill,
or if I call you Dan and you are Bill
or if I call you Goo!
and you are Lou,
does it change
the you in you?
Sky is sky
and
grass is grass
whatever else may come to pass.
You may paint the garden in your mind
any way you like; in mine I find
silver stems
with golden bells
and songs of angels
in the wind that tell
me stories sweet and fine
and show me treasures that are all mine,
and send me lawns to wander through
where I know that I am I, and you are you.
