A New Day - Wildflowers

Roads long squandered, Routes trained to memory. a crack in the long unyielding concrete unremarkable. Then, a wildflower A peculiar pink. Leather, nostalgia. Cinnamon, mellow. Stop dead in my tracks, Wistful, yearn. Many a while did I dream of creation After all, what does it take? Soil, water, an undefeated soul. Many a while did I long for something that called me God. Many a while did I pick up a pen, Dropped it back down. Afraid of laughter no one laughed, Fearing fingers yet unpointed. What does it mean to begin? What does it take to begin? Paper, ink, a sliver of hope. Do I have what it takes to begin? Now every new page, A breath of awakening In a book awaiting it's soul. A step, far from empty pages. Albeit one, this stride holds strength of lifetimes far spent. And as I sit, winds of change, Of beginning, blowing through my hair finally let down. A start. Breaking apart the shackle that is anticipation. Everything goes, and so will this fear. And as my soul, my blood, my sweat, my tears, I wring into form, Perhaps, I have what it takes to begin.