• Lorraine Johnson

[127] Hold You High

Up the peeling bark we go

down again, we all do fall

fast or slow, we grow or forego

climb up again we make the crawl

some in sight, others not

saving face behind the wall

the fair-and-square,

or the lion's share

that's all we bring

to the town square.


the humming bee

—it does the work

commits to place,

with no big fuss

it finds its way

it takes its space

builds its strength

with watchful eye

stands tall and high


the sentient elephant

—under velvety ears

cares with trunk

and mourns its love

rumble, rumble goes its feet

spreading the word

so others' don't fall

in the superheat

of the race to all


stir the pot, add the salt

—scramble, scramble

through the sweet amble

of no return

—scramble, scramble

no time to fall

though fall you must,

loving hands lift you up

hold you high against the tide


hum, hum

memory serves

rumble, rumble

the call was heard

—like the power of wind

gently whispering you

through a moonlit night.