All I want in the world is to feel my chest rise and fall,
As high and as low as ever,
Concave sternum welcoming in more oxygen than I’ve ever known,
And still breathe with the knowledge that I could not possibly house the zeal I have for the life I live;
I want to live in the constant disappointment that my body cannot house my soul;
That it all seeps out in song and smiles and rhyme,
Displaced by life’s many simple pleasures;
I want to stand barefooted and feel that I am a growing extension of the earth itself,
To stand like an oak in its tall-grassed dominion,
and my spouting nonsense would be my falling leaves;
I want my branches climbed and my sap unrefined;
I want to grow towards the heavens;
I want my growth, unlike my lungs, to be limitless;
Limitless within.
