new adventures
As the snow fleets off the mountainside,
As the wind blows into my open eyes,
Crushing force within my tear ducts,
I'm finally ready to push off of my feet.
Jump as high as I can, jump as far as I go,
From mountain to mountain,
From foggy tops to the bustling low.
Writing like my life means what was foreshadowed in actions,
Speaking words out into the distant seas.
As I gracefully land and slip beneath and underneath the surface,
Down within the ground I know,
I look up to the shadowless sky, white pouches bound together—
Blue, pink, green, and yellow.
I sit there.
I sit there again.
And I wait.
I'm finally here.