As Glorious sun rises
over horizon I breath deep
aligning
awakening to who I am.

The song in wind plays
anointing feet
for wing-like dance.

The song of heart
energies self
so I see with new eyes.

The song of change
echoes inside inner self
to smile and share light.

My rebirth has begun
to dance in poetic words
and tickle readers eyes.

I am anchored on journey.
I have found my heart.
I am blessed.

My mornings got brighter
My smile stays a little longer
My heart beats faster
My nights got sweeter
My thoughts go deeper
My soul feels blessed to know that you are
my lover

if i die,
would you care,
if i was eaten by a bear,
would you just stare,
or would you care,
i shouldn't stress,
i'm very blessed,
caught in a nest,
with twigs and thorns,
oh why was i born!

In a culture where reading is corny
Writing is even worse.
How do you explain child hood.
If all you had was a stuck of magazines.
Dreams dreamt.
At so tender an age.
Vision built.
Life looked at at a different perspective.
A beautiful perspective.

How do you explain.
That childhood can be books and stories.
How do you explain that its okay.
To not play in the hot afternoon sun.
To not mingle with the neighbourhood kids.
Because Beckham looks better on that magazine cover.
And you prefer to understand every bit of his wedding.

Is it wrong to grow up so fast.
Is it wrong to know about the world at 4.
And explain it better than the teacher...
Because you've read the story over and over...
Is it wrong to try to understand.
Actual things apart from dodge ball and running.

Maybe knowing is the greatest strength.
A gift open to readers.
Whereas others were born to live.
Others were born to do much more.
To spell life out.
To record moments.
To write down history.
And to proudly read it out......
To remind the world of a beauty they are too busy to record.