First thing today, a wish to be outside,
A wish to which I could not but reply;
This shelter where I wake at morning-tide,
A hostel with which I could not comply.
A blue, the brightness there outside my door,
Through window curtains opened up, to start;
And on the other side the hope of more,
A chill, to sky-high blue the counterpart.
The blue brings youth to yonder realm of gray,
With all the shapes and sizes of its forms;
Where light to dark of cloud is on display,
With challenge to serenity from storms.
Outside now, and the finite lost to sight,
Outside, the chill, that leads me who knows where;
The world I knew from home but mezzo-light,
The path now an adventure in fresh air.
A hope ascends in me from deep inside;
A journey where? No matter; it's the ride.
Look Up · A Thousand Words