I think of wild flowers in the field.
They bloom gently with new breath of life,
in the wind of ever-changing seasons,
come rain or shine.

Captivated by their hidden energy.
The flowers smile back at us quietly.
Before they are taken by wind and fly away,
let us embrace them in our hands,
carefully and dearly.

What’s left in our hands is the innocent, honest heart.
The moment of encounter is the new beginning.

Freely, just the way I am.
The sky in my eyes opens my heart.
Now from here, I make my first step.