Travel.

I love to travel.

I want to go everywhere that has a culture, a population, A person filled with their own 

Majestic dreams like mine.  

Majestic like the dragon in China, the heightened Buildings in Greece and the Mediterranean, 

With the blue sea glowing, and feeling the soft Tenderness of the Mediterranean breeze 

Against my cheek.

But this is only a dream.

I dream of seeing a blue bayou,

Of seeing you, in my mind

Clear as the night sky;

No problems.

But, in reality, we are all living in a blue cloud of made-up restrictions.

Blue.

Blue is a color, a feeling, an excuse to not live life to the fullest, to not go and

fight for what is right.

The thought of the trashed sea swirls through my mind Like ocean waves inflating the water up to touch the

Palatial skies.

Skies.

When I think of skies,

 I see pollution. 

 I feel blue, but see grey.  

I dream of a day where we can all

Lay on a beach with water clear as day,

Bright blue, clear green, with creatures

Living, breathing, reproducing without fear of losing Their home due to the change we have created with our Fruitful acts of protest.

To create a dream you have to act.

Take action.

Rip through the layers of stone clinging to human minds Blocking out others' opinions.

Rip the mask off their face, ridding them of the 

Facade they put on, 

The act they play saying we are okay

 On this earth with plastic in our seas, in our 70% of Life on this planet we were gifted.

Gift.

My gift to you is that I will never be silent.

I will use my voice to fight for our 

marine life, our animals, children, mothers, grass, trees, the birds that fly high in the sky

riding the great wave our society has made for everyone to tread through.

Water so thick that we can’t see our feet at the bottom of these lies, these things we tell ourselves to make us feel better about our choices.

I will rejoice when my voice is enough to make change.  

It needs to be joined with your voices.

Voices not only scream but they grow.

They expand like a sponge soaking up all of the suds;

we can soak up all of this pollution and create a solution to give us clean air, a clean earth, and more.

I will never be silent.

And it will be enough.

And when that day comes, that day where we can all resume dreaming while actually achieving something worthwhile and worth sharing,

I will still have bits of memories, 

Feeling the Chicago blues, 

Reminiscing on the pollution that once was.

However, on that lazy Sunday, I will sit on my front Porch looking out at that clear, blue sky, singing

“Blue bayou

I’m going back someday”.