Childlike ecstasy of existence,

Excitement playing across fingertips as fingertips

Themselves

Play across the surface of paper,

And dance with my feet

As they brush along to the rhythm that my soul taps

Upon the soles of my shoes.

I am young,

And I am ever so delighted with the breaths that I take

And the way in which

The world beneath me

Turns.

 

I see in yellow,

I laugh in red,

I smile in blue,

The primaries painting the landscape of my life

And teaching me

That to live at all

Must be to live in wonder.

 

I am divine incarnate,

Because I have been crafted that way.

 

Then the shimmer of youth peels away from me,

Chrysalis in nature,

But yielding something far less beautiful than that which entered.

I know of no other creature that claws out of a cocoon,

Drenched in sorrow,

Exquisite in the knowledge

That there is both good and evil,

And that where there was once good,

Now it seems that the God above has willed evil

To reign sovereign.

 

I scream in yellow.

I rage in red.

I cry in blue.

These are the primaries that paint the landscape of my life,

And I am suffocating,

Childlike despair

Betraying a body that no longer reflects childhood

And a heart that breaks with the pain

Of growing older.

 

Metamorphosis is a throbbing process

For one who knows not

Whether their mind

Or their soul

Will crack first.

Yet always,

Always,

Metamorphosis yields that which is greater

Than the sum

Of its suffering.

 

I begin to see in yellow again,

Not in the carefree way that I once had,

But in the movement of a being

Who has determined that sunshine

Tastes better

When happiness is hard won.

 

I laugh in red once more,

Because my own blood has tinted my mouth metallic,

And the only way to wash out the taste

Of human suffering

Is to throw my head back

And laugh with the abandon of a creature

Who knows the caress of death,

And has decided to live with as much fervor

As they had once so desperately desired

Life’s absence.

 

And finally, I smile in blue.

My lips are stained with sorrow,

But my heart drinks the blue of the sky

Even as my mind bends with the blue of my sadness;

And I determine that indigo

Has stolen too many moments of my life,

And that the pale brightness of my healing spirit

Will be the epitome of my newfound

hue.

 

As a child, I had breathed in wonder,

Existed in the shining glory

Of innocence and absence.

Now, as an adult, I exist again in wonder

And glory,

But now as one who has felt so keenly

The sting of its absence,

And who has decided that delight

Is worth fighting for.

 

I am divine incarnate,

Because I have chosen to be that way.