Sweet Newness

Sweet newness.
I am slowly emerging into the sun
awake and curious
about what tomorrow
will celebrate within me.

I weave textures
into my fingertips,
wanting to feel.

I weave wonder
into my hair,
wanting to be untamed.

I weave thought
into my eyelids,
wanting to dream.

Sweet newness
never known before,
but sought,
always endlessly sought,
in every mirror ever silvered.

Let me be a reflection of possibility.