Beautiful Things

In a summer dream, 

the wind ruffles the leaves of oak 

sunlight seeping through the fractals–

magnificent moments these are, 

flickering irides painted by the sky's blue. 

Do I think of you, when I taste the forest?

I'm engulfed by a stranger's laugh 

the green coloured in dew, 

unburdened by my woe 

wearing the paint of the morning, 

I walk into the glittering ocean, 

and feel a joy I have felt before. 

Untouched by animosity, 

unafraid of warmth, 

beckoned by my adoration,

chasing a fire I had never lost.

When I kiss the salt,

and no wounds bleed,

I will have found what would've been me.