Sheltered within the embrace of gentle mist,
climbing the thickest, soft mossy bough,
thinning amongst higher branches,
lost among fractured paisley pink blossoms,
I am born, a balmy parting from swollen bud,
among a cosmos of bursting buds.
I am born a specter, breathing ethereal dew,
fated to travel the world
perpetually displaced from it,
questing for my place in the cosmos,
infinitesimal in my insignificance, yet unique
in beauty as the double-helixed molecular barcode.
I am born, sheltered within nursery of thought
on reprieve from long winters of barren greys
where the mist bubbles, yielding space to sprinkle
light touches of pastel ideas that dare to open,
revealing flowering layers of imagination
efflorescence in portrait form.
I am born in whispers, neck craning to reach
higher in muted sky, patiently smiling
through the blended fragrance of renewal,
with birdsongs reminding me that it is OK
to raise my head and breathe.