Somewhere, hiding in my bones,

My blood vessels.

My heart, my guts

Is the real me.

Am I a beast struggling to escape?

A gentle giant yearning for peace?

An artist creating her own world?

Or a minuscule creature, hiding?

I hear a prayer

When the wind blows,

The birds sing

Children laugh

He answers in a touch of wind

A brush against my arm

The kiss of my husband

And the joys of friendship

Deep within lies my secrets

My hopes and dreams,

For even as I grow old,

I live for another day.