The Roar

THE ROAR

Spoken Word Poem by Johnny Levy

Little One:

I am the one who breathes upon you, and my breath is the jungle wind. My breath is the life of the world. Life in your nostrils, adventure in your lungs.

Green breath of jungle, and forest, and lily-covered ponds. I grow your soul, wild and free as the vine, I grow your soul upon the trellis of my Words, I grow you green and wild, a soul breaking forth, your chest too small to contain all the wildness within you.

There is a joy of being that dwarfs the vessel. There is a joy. There is a hope that breaks the casket. There is a love that shatters the teeth of death.

You are small, my child. You are an ant before me. And yet you contain the seed of the infinite in your fragile chest, and I cultivate you forth into raging rivers, into green-backed mountains, into life everlasting.

Mustard seed, mustard seed, you will know by becoming. You will know what the great oak tree knows. You will know. You will unfurl and unfold over a lifetime, and one day you will shed the seed case of mortality, and become that which your seed mind can only imagine:

The rustle of wings, the beating heart of the sunset, my colors of fire smeared through your hair.

You will fly and roar louder than ears can bear, one day. Even here, even now, you will roar.

Let us laugh and play together, infant of God. Drink deep of my bosom, and be the wide eyed baby who delights in all mystery and awe.

I make all things new, and I made your eyes and heart to crave what only I can give: The Infinity of Newness.

The awe in your chest is my music, and I will compose symphonies of astonishment through your lips.

I AM the artist, and the joy of creation is the 'why' beneath all that is:

The joy of all creation in its dance with its Maker, in the dance, for I created the heart for awe.

Come and see.