Sitting out on the fresh green grass awakens something inside me.

The dampness of the ground slowly seeping through my blue jeans, the fresh aroma telling me that although the grass was freshly cut, it lives, breathes, and grows

Around me are ancient buildings, housing thousands of students, whose minds are alive—or, to be honest, are most likely half asleep

The mountains stand softly in the background, somehow still partially snow capped.
They form a security blanket, sad when we leave, but welcoming as we come back

And the sky—the brilliant blue majesty above—somehow envelopes all of this, as if it somehow knows each one of us

It holds the billowing white clouds that shape shift into almost anything my vagabond heart desires

The birds flying high in the sky talk with a sort of excitement, and fly away in a hurry

There is a hustle and bustle—people talking, airplanes flying, cars driving—that remind me I’m not alone

And you know what I taste?

Freedom
The freedom that allows me to be whatever and whoever I want to be.
It beckons me to explore every land and swim in every sea.
It shows me who I truly love and who I desire to become

This magical place—has allowed me to find me.