Sapling Worlds.

A longing for a new and spiraling perception
Through the same twisted-green eyes as always.
To search through infinite ranges of mountains-
Descending the aurora's purple valleys with a floating ability-

And to swim shimmering empty space's dark depths,
Breathing airy atmospheres of lands of dreams that hide
In a lunar forest, deep in the labyrinth of a hermit's lonely mind.

And to drift through an eternally green-
a tribal, south American green,
field that blesses me with lavender smells
That immerse my skin and eyes with a new understanding
of the soil's spirit.

And for a newly found center-
Entirely centered within an abyss' clear nothing.
Thoughts then flow, and form their individual
Sapling new worlds.

This I look for and continue to accept-
This free, free world.