Amy Barton

Wildflower

It’s time to wake up.

Shaken by the shoulders

of something new.

The dark slowly succeeded

by light.

And hairs on skin rise.

A cold drop down the spine,

hibernation is over.

I make my own clouds

when I sing

and the world laughs with me.

Life is coming.

An eternity over,

of frosted lives

making way for a newborn spectrum.

Buds open, fast forward,

A newfound energy.

A sunlight blur of falling cherry blossom

and changing tides.

Minds are fresh and open.

And suddenly,

I am vibrant.

I come alive.

I dance to a new song.

Light is coming.

I breathe and I know.

Then I smile.

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