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.