Carol A. Hand
As a child I sensed the world and universe in motion
singing in textures and colors I couldn’t name
The trees, the flowers, the tadpole pond, the rippling stream
called to my spirit and lit my heart with a glowing flame
So many called me a foolish deluded dreamer,
“Wake up,” they’d say, “You need to play life’s game
“The world is black and white, or sometimes shades of gray
“Being different will make you mad so choose to be the same”
*
“Memorize, theorize, categorize and put on a facade”
I tried to sing in conventional scales and color between the lines
but with spirit numbed I was only another empty fraud
***

***
Singing with a rain-filled voice I found a healing grace
and accepted the gift of sensing textured colors anew
releasing the bonds of conformity in a liberating space
learning, though falteringly, to sing through what I choose to do
***

***
Carol this is so very lovely
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Thank you so much for you thoughtful comments, Candice. ❤
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I’m a fan my friend 💓
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I am deeply honored. The depth and beauty of your poetry touches my spirit. ❤
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Carol, Tubularsock knows of exactly what you speak but no one could stop Tubularsock’s experience that the universe didn’t have “lines”!
Excellent. There just happens to be way more freedom outside the pack, LIVE IT!
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Thank you for your delightful comments, Tubularsock. You are definitely one of a kind who has no doubt always walked outside the lines. 🙂
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Carol this is absolutely beautiful. I’m so grateful for those who see the textures and colors of the world.
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It is always a gift to hear from you, dear friend. Thank you so much for your lovely, thoughtful comments. ❤
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The pain of self realization speaks through these words. Powerful self revelation, and one to inspire those who sense another way within themselves that is so different to ordered living. It resonates strongly for me.
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Thank you so much for your thoughtful comments and for sharing such important insights, Paul. ❤
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Beautiful words Carol 💕💚🌈
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Thank you so much for your kind and lovely comments, Karen. ❤
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Of those who were forcefully rounded up and herded into the pack, some escaped, experimented with life outside the corral and the individual “I” drove us to become self empowered. Everything is different after that.
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Wise words, Sha’Tara. Everything is different, and although not always easy, “life outside the corral” has it’s own rewards.
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Beautiful, Carol! xo
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Thank you so much for your kindness, Bette. ❤
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Yes!! Just yes! ❤
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Thank you, Lisa. Your comments mean a lot to me. ❤
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And your writings touch me deeply, Carol. I am so glad to have crossed paths with you here at WordPress! ❤
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I am grateful our paths connected as well, Lisa. ❤
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I enjoy the songs sung by the Voices from the margins. They are lovely inspirational songs, Sing IT loud Carol!
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Ray, this is such a kind and lovely comment. Chi miigwetch, dear friend. ❤
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Miigwech gayegiin!
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This is absolutely beautiful, Carol. A life philosophy so poetically expressed.. freedom to be authentic 💖
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Thank you so much for your thoughtful, lovely comments, Helen. ❤
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What a beauty you were then and now dear sweet Carol111 🙂 ❤
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Thank you so much for your kind words, dear Natalie. It may sound odd, but my grandmother convinced me that I was ugly when I was 12. I learned to be grateful for that because it forced me to rely on intelligence and personality. 🙂
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Well she was mistaken. You were and are beautiful!!! ❤️❤️❤️
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❤
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This is so lovely, Carol. I understand where you’re coming from. We are so alike. Your photo is lovely too.
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Thank you so much for your thoughtful comments, Izzy. I also feel a strong sense of kinship and always marvel at your exquisite photos, poetry, and reflections.
💙💜💛💝 (and I’m sending many hearts to thank you for helping me discover the hidden keyboard.)
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I was a freshman when you were a senior, Carol.
We have some shared experiences, it seems. I lived in a commune when I was in Washington, DC in 1971 (21 years old). I was in a band, and many of us lived together. It was my first trip away from ‘home’, my first real awakening.
Coming from Ohio, this had been a very new and strange experience for me, at first, but after a while, I caught on. My life had been completely altered by that event, looking back now, I just didn’t realize that at the time.
“releasing the bonds of conformity in a liberating space”
I believe this is the only way to truly experience life. I mean true life as opposed to a mere existence, chasing after what the rest of the herd is chasing, or dare I say, running away from.
I didn’t understand, early in my life, why I always seemed to be on the outside looking in. And quite often it was a painful experience, especially in my early teens. But now, all these years later, I can look back and see that the artistic in me would not allow me to conform, to be a card carrying member of the mindless, madding herd.
I am thankful to music for this gift, and many others as well!
Excellent as always, Carol! And nice senior picture!
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Dave, Thank you for sharing such wonderful memories and experiences. I am grateful music was such a powerful protective and transformative force in your life. Music and drawing played a role for me, too, but ultimately, I discovered my true art was to breathe life into words on a piece of paper. They came to life in innovative programs, public speaking and teaching (despite severe stage-fright), and even in state policies or budget narratives.
I am grateful for your kind words, too, my friend. ❤
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Your soul song radiates beauty! ❤
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Chi miigwetch for your kindness, dear friend. ❤
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This is a very heart warming post – you are simply beautiful ❤
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Thank you so much, dear Saadia. I send my best wishes to you. ❤
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A beautiful share Carol A. Hand. Undoubtedly, innocence beholds a brilliant spectrum of perceptions.💕
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Thank you so much for your lovely comments and for sharing such important poetic insights, AOC. 🙂
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may you keep
singing
dear dreamer 🙂
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Absolutely lovely and heart-touching blessings, David. Chi miigwetch dear friend. Sending my best wishes to you. ❤
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A beautiful description of your journey Carol.
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Thank you so much for your thoughtful, lovely comments, Andrea. ❤
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