I feel many things,
tilting my head to gaze at the sky in the warmth
of bright sunlight on a chilly, autumn day
the sound of faded orange-red leaves
crunching beneath my feet,

I feel like flying,
suddenly feeling the wind lift me up into
the air and so high until I'm far away,
far from the troubles that weigh me down like
the world on Atlas' shoulders, and suffocate me
like manmade islands spreading on the ocean's surfaces,
far from the sounds of people and things
writhing in agony and their endless desires
that are never met before the time of death arrives,

In the clouds, I won't have that sickness
to restrain me from expanding into the horizon,
the sickness that sprouts from seeds of ignorance
and society's flaws, rapidly shooting out into
weeds of choking anger that suffocates my entire being
and distorts my reflection when I put on makeup
and peer in vain at the me in the mirror,

In the pure fields of grass that sweep
the horizon's grounds as far I can see,
there are no dripping wells of bitterness and remorse
soaking into the roots of blooming flowers,
the ones I will pick and offer to you,

in the hopes that you represent
for all of eternity,
for all of me,
goodness and justice,
freedom and forgiveness,
faith and love.