THE QUESTION IS:
CAN WE FIT IT INTO
OUR SCHEDULE
by Leah Leopold
Did you know that ancient gardens can heal?
Sit long enough under a massive tree,
embraced by thick, green vines,
its limbs singing with birds,
the sea wind feathering
a multitude
of iridescent colors
and wounds mend
intractable to doctors.
The A.M.A. might not confirm,
but some physicians
descendants of Asclepias,
know that special power
which emanates from loveliness—
a balm in Gilead.
And the pain is eased,
the flesh grows new skin.
Yet someone once said,
an educator I think, that art
is an extracurricular activity
But magic visions still exist,
leaping from cave walls
which once goaded men
(quite slight in stature)
to hunt and slay bears
mightier than they—
a necessity for dinner.
Those ancestors of ours—
practical creatures,
had no time for frills,
but they knew the artist
who, with song and clay
roused their blood to dance
and challenged fate,
was essential.
Today—
nothing's simple anymore,
chants and pictured walls
play no part in corporate decisions,
and they lock beauty in museums.
But we can still gaze upon a tree
and have visions—
(no matter what the chairman says)
essential to our being.
Grace
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