A breath Slow and even and then faster and faster joy bringing out from within Simple and sweet and becoming a strong emotion Snowballing but yet warmth Shining on my face and yet not sure if I should Feel this way Is it wrong, is this new, will it continue? Yes, it needs to continue and to soar above any other feelings Never a stranger and never an enemy Hopefulness of returning Sadness of it not Cherishing the sensations Temptations and sharing Purpose and remembering Where will this lead to or who will this lead to In the end, must it come to an end
On the beach at night alone, As the old mother sways her to and fro, singing her husky song, As I watch the bright stars shining—I think a thought of the clef of the universes, and of the future. by Walt Whitman