ELOGOS

This is a poem by the 8-year nephew of a writer named Jeremy John Parker.  I don't know either of them.  I saw this as a "retweet" by a famous person who I do not know personally.  I just happen to read his tweets from time to time.  That is the way twitter works.  Random, full of sound and fury quite often, and yet sometimes so incredibly sublime.  I have read this poem several times. I love it. I love the blissful self-wareness, the metaphors that no one often uses to describe themselves, the effort to name a shade of blue that he did not know how to spell but offered it anyway.  The tweet of this poem has gotten 384 comments, 9000 retweets, and 45,100 likes.  Pretty good for a poem in these more turbulent Twitter days.  The poem and the medium speak to the day.  The spirit of gentleness and the individual uttering in his own way: " I am here." It takes muscular listening to hear truth through the din of everyone talking all at once. The ripping tissues stretching in the hearing effort may bleed too much for such little results.  Many give up. Don't you.  Don't you give up listening.  The voices of truth are speaking in the din, like little Bartimaeuses along crowded, dusty paths from Jericho to Jerusalem. The truth is there like gold dust to be gently panned from muddy streams.