Spirit Tribe, I call you

Artist: Jenica "Hen" Fredrickson A member of my Spirit Tribe heeded my call.

Artist: Jenica “Hen” Fredrickson
A member of my Spirit Tribe heeded my call.

Spirit Tribe, I call to you with the words of a starving human
I am greedy for your attention to my withering roots
Water me with your colors spilling freely
Reach out with your own inspiration
That is begging release from drought.
Wrap yourself in a wet paper towel
That offers just enough moisture for you
To find me clinging to the smallest sprinkle
Of disconnection from your creativity
From that bond that unites the visionaries
Because of our hidden tendencies to obscure
Our innermost desires to run naked
Through the streets covered in kaleidoscopes
Spirit Tribe, I beckon you forth from your dream-world
I am but a pool reduced to a drop, withering
Spring forth with your overflow to spread unhindered
Release your inhibitions so that you may find what you seek
Let me spill my ideas, beliefs, fanaticism on you
Like hot coffee or iced tea that brings deepest refreshment
Put on your brightest clothing without fear
That builds up your unique version of yourself
Into full fruition. Seek and you will find me
Waiting for the touch of your brush on the canvas
Believing in your mastery of your own vision
Twirling like a dervish to the music we’ll create
With words and paints and sounds unheard and unheeded
Disregarded by those who can’t see the world as we do
Dismissed by the gardeners as weeds to be pulled
From a society that at its best is ugly with stained beliefs
But at its best is a tribute to resilience, tolerance, and power.
Spirit Tribe, I beat my drum to hail your arrival
My confetti sits untouched in a bucket by my door
Waiting to shower you with praises for your bravery
Longing for your belief in yourself to find its way to me
Believing that every feeling you can create into tangibility
Is a gift that’s been wrapped for too long as an unsent package
Knowing that I will gladly accept you as my own
Because we already understand the ways of things
We already “get” the planes, shapes, patterns, styles
And we can’t help but feel lost because there are no ties
That bind us to the material plane when we are free to be
Who we are with abandoned shadows stepping into the light
Open your floodgates, remove the starvation for your beauty
Evaporate my longing for our bonding in the name of art
Come, my Spirit Tribe. Heed my call and come.

One comment on “Spirit Tribe, I call you

  1. Reblogged this on Mare Martell and commented:

    When I first posted this and performed it at a Coffee House event, I had no idea what would happen. As it turned out, I discovered a world network of artists, poets, writers, creators, dreamers, flashlights, and people with the extraordinary power to transform lives.

    Read through it to yourself. If you like the challenge, read it aloud to yourself, read it aloud to someone else, read it aloud in public. The purpose is to call out the creative people that hide behind canvases and pens. The idea is to flood your community with beauty, love, and compassion for fellow humans that also run on caffeine and spirit. Come, my tribe. Come join us. We don’t even require you to drink the Kool-Aid!

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