This life is an act of creativity—
my evolution brews, the rainforest stirs.
My mind; bright yellow, my soul a deep sea
nothing human is alien to me. 
I’m an object in motion, a mind at rest,  
chaos and collection and the luxury of a deep breath I am human, 
I am human, 
I am me.


Formed or in flux, I am free. 
My collection of atoms, my magnetic tide
I am miracle becoming, I tend to secret worlds inside.
Am I perfect face or a just wrapped cocoon? Do I know how time breaks, how it swells always
  too soon
And still? I make.

Creativity then, is life-affirming
it is the courage 
to say I am here
I am earth-birthed, I laugh because I see

There is no leap of faith, you’re already there
Your fingers trace the deep and moving blue and 
the blushing of the pink. The skyline 
the harsh and tender outline of the trees
this is the way I think. As I notice shadow, I recognize sun and the clouds that 
roil and caress the sky, 
I'm reminded of my cheeks and how they perch 
on top of jaw, below the mind

I am born of porous things,
I am drawn from rebel song.

I am guided by rough hewn edges of newborn dawns,

and I play.