You were once ashes of molten, burned sediment, like an aftermath of earth’s tumultuous clashes seared by a refining heat of rebirth
Now, you are star dust bursting through blackholes in a universe of Milky Way
Y-O-U are diamonds forged within steamable combustions of fire-belly soul
You are celestial fountainheads in spring, risen from winter’s cold abyss
You are a soothing center, rooted within a 'storm’s eye’—quiet amidst her screaming roar
Alas, you are a sculpted falcon, sailing steady upon winds of uncertainty; a sharpness in your eyes exists—a calming, magical thunder ignited
Always be grateful for a mess of hot ash, an uncertainty of life, and a flaming fire—for without it, your rainbow, your butterfly wings, and your diamond chiseled soul would never have been born