Spark the fire that is my soul,

I’ll let the wild parts of myself wander free beneath the chrome blue shadows of the moon. 

This woman I have become is beyond her years,

She spends time in conversation with the thunder 

And without hesitation she chases the lighting. 

I find hope in the words of Petty and Nicks,

Melodic medication for a troubled soul. 

I’m a free falling gypsy tongue tied on the chorus. 

I bury myself in sunflowers and wait on the sunrise 

Walking through agony has allowed me to discover that there is comfort even in despair 

Without it I wouldn’t know true joy or the value of a fleeting moment 

And here I go again drenched in such lonely nature

However, all is not lost, misery strikes temporarily 

I heard the wind whisper in the storm “I think you’ll be okay.” 

Shocked by the confidence in my own voice, I heard myself say “Oh, watch me fly.”