I come here quite often to sit on this hump
I travel this path that goes over the bump
The grass here is friendly, it tickles my nose
when I crawl like an earthworm with bare feet and toes

I swing when I want to, today I will sit
I might roll around this here tree for a bit
The flowers smell nice even way over here
They're magic. When I'm frightened, they take away fear

There's a bird in the tree. He's my friend, yes he is
He tells me nice stories from the friends that are his
He travels way far, sometimes traveling days
Then he comes back and paints worded picture. He says

Young Student Below (that's his name for me, see?)
Hear what I have to tell you, listen up carefully
I know you cannot travel, your legs are not strong
But I'll take you to places, carried there by my song

Then he sings and the magic fills me up head to toe
And the images come and the magic does flow
He will sit on my shoulder and I stand very tall
With my friend singing to me I can walk and not fall

So we visit these places, I see distant lands
My best friend, the bird, perching there on my hands
I can travel and visit and happily run
in the rain, in the snow, best of all: in the sun

Then its time to go home and my bird brings me back
to this hump by the bush and the well beaten track
Then I hear my mum coming, I know how she feels
She is sad as she brings me my chariot wheels

But I climb up and sit there and look at the swing
and I wonder what its like to sit there on that thing
But the bird is my friend and tells me "let it be"
Swings take you flying but my songs set you free.

(Painting by Marielle)

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