The way I looked at stones as a kid,
with glitter in my eyes.
Firmly stroke them meanwhile jealous at the sea
Ran into the water from the beach
With my hands in the air and dived right in

My sibling says
I used to be more of a Daredevil
I didn't care if I fell and bumped my head
or got a little scrape on the knee
I saw the beauty in everything
in the bitter end
even though grown ups would giggle and say:
“Oh dear, oh dear...now you getting your hands
muddy and clothes all dirty”


But I saw it. I saw it crystal clear.
Right in the corner of my mind


“This too, could be a poem.” 
“This too could be a sign”

The way I hold you in my arms.
The way I stare at your
face. Thinking of you with my headphones on
And there is something in the air.
I sense it
Don’t judge me.
Don’t finger point at me...
Don't you say: "Don't be so naive"
You know... if you catch it in the right state of mind
Everything.
I mean. Everything, literally

is a poem