The mighty poet
stood tall at the front of the room
grinning a little to himself.
He remembers some of his poems--
doesn't need a paper copy to share them here.
"Kuumba" is the title.
And somehow with his words
a tree grew before our eyes.
Branches spread reaching to the sky
until there was a forest.
And there was rain
to quench our creative thirst.
We listened intently
as he spoke
"Life is"
and we leaned a little closer
spellbound
"creative force"
senses tingled with anticipation.
Birds lit on branches
and cocked their heads
to better hear the words
"in motion"
and everyone was still--
breathless
and he leaned in closer
and that one last word
"MOVE!!!"
shattered walls.
Anna took the wise man
at his very word.
Jumped straight up
from her perch on my lap.
The good man apologized
for frightening the child.

Maybe little girls
need to learn
that a word is a living thing
with the power
to make us move.