Walking barefoot through the sands of time,
I visit old edifices, machines of past lives that once seemed so daunting,
that are now rusted and falling back into the earth.
I stop to snatch a flower from out of the ground,
it smells of the fragrance of promise.
I take a deep whiff, absorbing it all into my pours,
letting the aroma saturate my pores,
before replanting the living thing back into the ground.
I start to spring, so fast that my lungs burn,
As I do so, I feel so alive.
I cry out, victoriously, words that are not words,
and I collapse into a waking state.
It is beginning of tomorrow, and I feel good.