maelynslavik

A bird chirps

Along with morning's song,

Humming along

With warm beams of light,

Letting out calls

Merging with yawns

As arms stretch

Along with uncurling wings,

Reaching for a morning hug,

Breeze ruffles

Through frills of grass,

Little green blades

Getting trampled again

And again,

Still rooted

In the soil,

I walk past a wall of pictures, 

Some bright, 

Some black and white, 

Some dull but still rich, 

Paper crinkled, 

Wrinkled from the fast-paced 

Rain of time, 

Mist still lingers,

Weighting the world,

Each droplet, each dewdrop,

Catching in the sun,

Refracting each ray,

But not quite like the sky,

A clover rests on my page,

Its stem proud and strong,

Its petals crooked

To prove its reality,

It’s color green,

So beautiful,

Inspiration 

Is such a delicate thing, 

Such an intricate dance 

Between emotions and ideas, 

A soft sparkle