So she winked again,
in the shadows of the towering grass blades,
her pink peeping petals
along the pebbles that carried my feet.
And they chirped again
the slow trill of a heavenly flute
her song born free
along the windows of dust,
letting out the smoke of my kitchen blast.
Papery twigs carrying the wings of a damsel fly
they hopped and skipped
whispering to the clattering jewels
that bound me hard.
So they swept past,
rumbling soft with the lightning births
carrying my teardrops floating
through the rude roars
scathing past my bed room door.
Can't I wink?
those sleeping buds ask me to.
Can't I sing?
those trilling birds wish me to
cry aloud, carrying my song to Neverlands.
Can't I fly?
those damsel flies hop for free
through the windswept moss
shedding the captive chains
of homeward bound.
Can't I speed?
Like the lightning shot
that carries my soul
to Freedom Land.