Beautiful Things

I want to make beautiful things again
to write words that don't carry pain
sketch dumb cartoons, paint landscapes
sing every note with no strain
and hum in the kitchen making pancakes.

I want to see people heal
to know that good can win
kiss my darling for every reason
caress a hand across their skin
and welcome the changing season.

I want to show the sky to you
to see the stars as I do
wander between reality's borders
reach through the void for life's clues
and return with no disorders.

Maybe we can make things better,
maybe we'll build something new.
What if we stopped our search for money?
What if we step back to see the full view?