I want to be great.
I want to make you smile. Yes, you. And him. And her.
I want to make you feel.
I want to shoot thru your body like that first kiss; like an earthquake.
I want to make sure that I feel—everything. I want to be rattled by this earth.
I want life in me like lightening.
I want fresh berries for breakfast every day. I want to eat so many that I am stained purple or pink or red.
I want to take the time to pick out the miracle of colors.
I want to take the time to find the beauty in your heart.
I want to understand.
I want to make you smile.
I want to close my eyes and smell grass. Pine. Sage. Sun. Wind…Life.
I want to lay on that hill and listen.
I want warm coffee with cream slushing around in my belly.
I want laughter to always escape my mouth—my eyes—my heart—at a run; eager.
I want the same for you.
I want too many good books to read.
Too many pivotal lines to write down.
I want dandelion after dandelion to make wishes upon.
I want the music loud.
I want us dancing and dancing and dancing. And smiling.
I want my fingers to fall to the keys—white and black—and grab my heart there.
Grab your heart—show you just what Bach meant.
I want to be great for me.
And for you.
I want to mean something—to have it matter that I am here.
I want to smile while I am sleeping.
I want to slip into your dreams and gift you sweet ones. I will lay little fairy kisses on your nose. I will give you happiness there.
I want to be a Queen of Adventure—to taste the flavors of the air & of the land.
I want my toes to step on so many rocks.
The sun to warm me; the rain to cool me.
I want to look at all of this—this wild world—and smile.
I want to breathe it in and smile.