I make my journey,

searching for a place of growth,

I do not know the strength in me.

Though the quicksand takes my ankles.

I falter.

In turquoise and green,

I find you a spark of yellows,

of brightness you venture round the corner.

I hesitate to bring you with me, a smile.

I settle.

Like clay I mould and stretch,

together we get stuck.

Though I can feel a change, I'm growing.

Tangible and strong, you support.

I find my feet.

We know not what will come after,

diagrams and reflections, I follow your sparks.

I find my yellows, with strength I carry them with me.

So that I can journey alone.

I grow.