I make my journey,
searching for a place of growth,
I do not know the strength in me.
Though the quicksand takes my ankles.
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.
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.