A Fresh Melody

A Fresh melody…

What we desire to appear,

Plays hide and seek, year after year,

For we unconsciously leap,

Where the tides rear.

Putting on our unique socks and boots,

And our distinctive robe made of gold,

We are off to the fields,

Picking up the fallen fruits.

The soft breeze singing,

The melodious song of our hearts,

The wild flowers welcoming,

Back to the pack.

It was no hard to go back,

To our dear self,

It was just that we never thought,

We were very special ourselves!