Trickling through my sweet veins bursts a desire to

fly

through the ocean of petals, whose broken cellulose is splashed

vibrantly

against the stark heavens cradled by my palms,

with

what one might call

passion

within a world so grey, so monotone

until

I admit such colors are relative, determined

only

by the strength of my mind and an ironfast will.

Your

guidances, given by sunkissed words and lightning

feet

which hasten to right my back, my shoulders, my mind, can

remind

the most stubborn of barriers to crumble gently unto the soil,

you

remind me to step into shallow waters even as my fears

are

barraging my body. You comfort me, saying,

on

what grounds are you bearing this weight? That is the job of the

Earth.

Let

your

imagination

be

free.