Buzzard ladies,
I salute you.
You are the topic of the hour,
The fodder of gossips,
And the inspiration for a thousand questions.
You don’t seek the spotlight, but claim it all the same.
Hermits of the hills,
I admire you.
The audacity to not need us,
Your solidarity of one,
The tenacity to shirk the fashionable
And lay waste to expectation.
Mad Scientists and Theorists
I enjoy the seeds you sow.
Bucking the status quo
Asking questions,
Digging in the soils of change.
Causing earthquakes under the foundations of what is known.
Hippie Poets Artists and Angst Filled Rockers
Your sounds are music to my ears.
Your brushes paint life vivid.
Enriching life through notes, words, color.
Translating emotions,
Shaking the souls of mortals
Opening dialogue portals
Making maps of thoughts and dreams.
You Provokers and Rebels.
You Berserkers of the norm.
You of a thousand stares and endless persecutions-
I stand with you in strangeness.
I worship at your table of weird.
You are the stars in the sky,
The illumination in the dark,
The curious wonder of a child.
The openness of innocence,
And the possibilities of the future.
Thank You.