I am a bird, though I’ve yet to fly.

I've touched the earth around me. I've fed the homeless. I’ve cried over a series of books. I’ve created my own theme song. I’ve been to the other side, where the grass really isn’t so much greener. I’ve spoken another language. I've chased after fireflies. I’ve found multiple four leaf clovers, and twice as many rightside up pennies. I watched overdosage take over the unwary. I’ve laid in the grass numerous times, all in an effort to think my life away. I’ve learned that fear is a choice.

I’ve been an Indian, a flower child, a cowgirl, and an astronaut. I’ve had my first kiss, chained along to my first heartbreak. I’ve smiled at wayward strangers. I’ve been reprimanded in school for transcending into the life of an aardvark. I’ve roasted marshmallows. I’ve met the bible, but not Jesus. I’ve sung concerts in the shower, gone to the emergency room after a losing battle with a wet floor sign, and collected pet rocks. I’ve wished upon a shooting star. I’ve had my breath stolen. I know what love is. I’ve learned to take risks.

I’ve morphed into a butterfly. I’ve fought off the monsters under my bed with but a wooden spoon and a pot-shaped helmet. I’ve had my fair share of childhood scars. I've walked against cancer. I've broken curfew. I’ve watched every Disney movie ever made. I’ve drawn a myriad of life-sized portraits in chalk. I've made a halo out of daisies. I’ve done manual labor. I’ve learned that I am beautiful. I’ve saved a colony of ants form a cup-sized tsunami. I’ve been the shoulder to cry on. I’ve created gourmet meals in the microwave. I’ve learned to breath.

My whole existence has been a life changing experience.

Though, my whole existance is not what matters.

To me, the world is my playground.

My school the jungle gym.

My community the slide.

My country the sandbox.

My life, the the monkey bars.

As I climb and climb, the transcending of life progresses.

One rung, two.. And off to college I go.

Three rung, four... and today, I uplift my arms

Down the slide, mouth full of sand

Five rungs, six.. Back home again.

The world is my playground

My breath its carousel

My wings its swing

My leap into existance, but a bird ready to fly