Monotony and stress have made an alliance
Against me. They together tug at my arms and legs,
Holding me back from climbing out of the well-worn rut
Of my routine existence.

But why, I ask, why can't I
Spring into the skies,
Slide down the delicate pink rays of the sunrise,
Allow the colorful, dewy sprinkles to cleanse my face?
How I yearn for my hair to be caressed by the wind,
My spirit to coast with the birds.

But maybe I can overpower what overpowers me.
Yes,
No longer am I restrained in any form.
I am the smoke dispersing from a warm flame,
Drifting in and out, attaching to people's clothing
And spreading like dandelions.
I have become everywhere at once,
Although no scent or image reveals me to your eyes.
I am still here, but I am also distant
And well-traversed.