Subversive Creation

Written in the spring of 2006 for an environmentally themed storytelling/performing arts event. The opening line was inspired by a remark made by a friend.

My roots longing
to be free
have been stirring,
Wish I could see

my way to the rich soil
where I could live and grow,
My roots are a tightened coil
of nerves that never know

anything but the dark ray
pouring forth like tar,
smothering the words you say,
Will I need to go far

to find my way to those dazzling eyes?
I hope for, yet fear, their surprise
bursting forth like lightning,
seeming to change everything

Eyes of inspiration,
shining in all directions
Globes of flowing light
have made my day and night

Rooted in imagination,
reaching for the sky,
Sharing in conversation,
where there’s nothing to deny

I didn’t know I had that choice
How can I describe the elation
at finally hearing the voice
of subversive creation?

Life will soon be bursting,
streaming forth beyond belief,
Surging, singing, shuddering
half in ecstasy, half in relief

Explosions of sudden colours,
Sounds and scents charge the senses,
The undergrowth undermining
all these walls and fences

Land reclaimed, the one who named it
is the one who claimed it
And set upon it the machines
that injured it and maimed it

Powerful machines reshape the world
in someone's image
And fires within that powered me
erupting into rage

then threaten to drag me down
below the surface of fiery conviction
and corrode me as I drown,
and an apocalyptic prediction
thunders out from between my lips,
with scathing words that sting like whips,
And the love inside me dies,
And the life inside me dies

Distracted by destruction's seduction
and the endless negotiation
of a compromising situation
and a glittering production,
Life became a place of frustration
where nothing seemed to matter much
How can I describe the elation
at finally feeling the touch
of subversive creation?

It’s your imagination
that’s been giving out good news,
pointing to possibilities that
I didn’t know that we could choose

When I’m finding myself quite lost
in a situation and its cost
I see that your imagination’s
been planting seeds
of subversive creation
somewhere deep in me,
sprouts of dreams and information,
animated by love,
love for people and creation,
establishing firm connections
between divisions, between sections,

whatever they meant
How can I describe the elation
at finally smelling the scent
of subversive creation?

Life will be bursting,
streaming forth beyond belief
Surging, singing, shuddering
half in ecstasy, half in relief
Explosions of sudden colours,
Sounds and scents charge the senses
The undergrowth undermining
all these walls and fences

From underground the spring seeped out
to pierce the winter’s shield
And somehow it sprang through me,
and I was unprepared, I reeled
at what was then revealed,
for what had been worn and torn
and desolate and dying
had somehow been reborn

Yes, this was the place
How can I describe the elation
At seeing the face
Of subversive creation?