She opened her eyes, shielding them from the sun.
The excited chirping of robins and the cool caress of the early morning breeze woke her up, signalling the day has begun.
The green carpet of the fields lay before her, the flowers of summer boasting their bold colours as they reached up to meet the sun.
She rose. A little too quickly. The world spun around her.
The kaleidoscopic swirling settled, but her sight was still a blur.
She reached out to the world but it pushed her back,
the cage she was in showing no slack.
Her face - flooded with tears - extinguished the fire in her eyes,
as she sat back down in her cage of fears.
The sky seemed a luxury, not a limit,
for she had wings, but no clear vision of the summit.
We all know of wind, earth, water and fire,
but there is an other.
It courses in our veins through the air we breathe,
singing its tune of magic, filling us with peace.
It rages a fire in our heart,
conjuring a deepening longing, everlasting courage - and a will to never part.
At times it falls from the sky through rain,
creating a magic shield to enclose us in.
While at times it scatters from the eyes,
binding a promise to meet again after the goodbyes.
When we are all but dust in the earth,
we are reunited by the hope of meeting again.
Hope, in love, should never be in dearth.
It is a fortunate few that find their way in,
and it is only a fortunate few that can keep it within.
The title needs a bit more work :) Any suggestions would be appreciated!