I hear your preaching

“the sky is falling”

your desperate crying

“the ocean’s rising”

I know your lectures

“we don’t have time for this,

repent

sit down

focus”

and I believe

that you believe

you know the right thing

I see the senseless war already seething

the storm is building

the smoking guns

the fires burning

we all feel

the unwarranted hurting

but before our earth spins off its axis

before we drown in a raging sea

before hate unravels every string that connects us

please

don’t starve the artists

for it’s times like these

when darkness strodes

armored in pretty lies towards our doorsteps

when the sun hides

his warmth behind an ever thickening blanket

we will need the ones

who speak the language of the moon

soon

will be the hour of the mystics

please

don’t starve the artists

let them sing to sunrise

let them doodle

let them dream

let them cry for the broken butterfly’s wings

let them tell their stories

though long

run on and winding

fill their jars with curiosity

fireflies and dandelions

give them space for silver linings

infuse their air with music

walk them through the forest

confirm and kindle

their precious belief in magic

because when the war mongers

and the book eaters

and the ill intending reverends

attempt to make us color blind

when the soul hounds

attempt to turn our world to black and white

when it feels everyone is lying limp

and going with the tide

we will need those who are strong enough

to search for hidden lights

those unafraid to paint

far beyond the lines

it will be the artists

fed on honesty and stardust

it will be the artists

finding secret hope within the ashes

it will be the artists

who save us

Laura E. Scheele, “Please Don’t Starve the Artists"

#MyPix