Poetry and blood course through my veins.
As I crave my morning coffee, I search for words.
Coffee is my blood, cream and sugar my poetry,
my being, my essence.
What is life without the art? A structure of walls and rules.
Our spirit must soar, experience and imagine.
Our ego and fear is loud.
The self's center must be coaxed to speak above the noise.
I am love, I am beauty, I am spirit and faith.
I have nothing to fear. I lack absolutely nothing.
The storms, though my roots, will not define my wings.
Walls are for displaying art and this body is to house my spirit.
I am free to fly and to be who I am.
I delight in life and dream no small dreams.
This it it,