Can you tackle the world with the feral fervor of a lioness?
With the purity of a raindrop…
The sharpness of an owl’s gaze?
Can you spread your wings in anticipation of the soar, with the invisible suction of your intellect’s pull and the everlasting rewind of your passion’s exploration?
Can you expose tu corazon like a wounded fighter, with the gush of blood that your pursuit will elicit?
Close your eyes and prop open the door to the waves that crash your bones and encapsulate your fears.
Can you catch a hold of the peacock’s blazing tail to clasp it in your hands made of impermanent presence…
Slipping it’s shimmering feathers into your warm palm, while they burst out and shine through your fingertips…
to illuminate those dreams cast heavy in your eyes?
Speak softly in a bear’s roar, sweetly in a lemon’s twist, and powerfully like an elephant’s lunge.
Can you draw water in buckets from the reservoir of hope that’s buried below your ribs, while letting a bit drip to the needy ones of our planet whose anguishing search leads to the oro precioso your spirit produces?
This gold, its embers are enough to ignite a volcano. It’s whispers supply a world of tongued thought.
You can, my friend, ride the rainbow’s ridge and tame the zebra’s stripes if you wanted to. But these are trivial conquests to a soul so saturated in the azules of our oceans, the flash of our stars, the tunes of our voices, and the electrical flares of our minds.
You can, my friend, reckon the moon to rise when the sun is expected for your passion and dangerous excitement for life birth your ability to be.