My twist on (Nina's poem)
It is the color of wind.
The shape of sight,
hovering over the meadows.
It rests high up in the oak trees.
A blue vibe amongst pure spirits.
I am looking at your innocence.
I am hearing the laughter of the beach shores.
I am savoring the taste of the rotund sky, mountains, and tropical waterfalls.
Trapped in a degree of bliss.
I am recalling the hope that grows in the forests of despite.
Life lifting it's burden off its servants.
I am dancing on the glow of the moon
I am remembering,
That I am.