I don't want to live in a soap bubble,
blown away by a tumbler downtown.
I don't want to stay inside a snowball that's being moved at will,
where the weather never changes and it is always cold.
Let us rise from the corner of the wall among the dust of our regrets
giving way to the gaps we have filled.
The ice will shine in the winter sun reminiscent of the colors of the northern lights.
We'll be like April,
Free dragonflies,
not butterflies, too ephemeral.
