Like a ballerina twirling as she dances lightly on her toes,
She is free.
And as the Earth swirls in her own sorrow, painting her poetry in the newly sun-less sky,
She is free.
And like the plump and pigmented cheeks of a child experiencing her first snowfall in the biting winter,
She is free.
And as the roses bud in the birth of Spring, the birds sing of their anxious wait for the comfort of her petals,
She is free.
And as the cotton candy dizzily gathers in the candy store windows of her childhood dreams,
She is free.
And as I tied back my hair this morning and pulled at the laces on my shoes and painted my lips with my favorite shade of happiness,
I closed my eyes and batted my lashes as my head filled with the music of
I am free.