Outside The Box


“Here’s our forest and our reading chair.”
(I see you stretching up under
the autumn morning light
to shout out the leaf words
we’ve weaved together.)

“And this is our wooden puppet theatre.”
(And there you are,
the play complete with crazy characters
living in glove puppets on dancing hands.)

“And we’re lucky –
our field has lovely trees.”
(This time you have your heads down,
muddy fingers scribbling furiously:
words flowing so fast
you hardly have the time
to breathe.)

“And this. This space could be anything.”
A crowded store cupboard,
(A studio lit in coloured lights.)
piled high with half-forgotten things
(You’re all curled up with eyes closed tight.)
is changed like a pumpkin
(Inside your minds you are thinking,)
or a scampering mouse
(dreaming, wishing, turning)
caught by the wave of a wand,
(into startling thoughts
waiting to be born.)


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