Photo courtesy of Jason McKim and is licensed under the Creative Commons

I can be cold as the bluest, hottest ice And hot as the bluest, fiercest fire. . .

I'm a false reflection of a conceptional misconception

Whatever your limited or infinite mind's desire

You listen to my loud, yet gentle vibration

You believe me fully with no hesitation . . .

You see me with all colors of the beautiful rainbow

Is that really all the colors? Will you ever know?

Only if you can let me go. . .

I'm young and younger, black and blacker

Photo courtesy of daphid and is licensed under a Creative Commons license.

I am what’s felt when we see a field of wild flowers on a crisp spring day;

I am how we feel when the doctor says everything will be ok;

I am the thought that is often felt when we wake up to a brand new day;

I am what is felt when we see “10 fingers and 10 toes”

I am that feeling of awe that comes from the beauty of spring’s first rose;

I am what is felt when we see the beauty of winter’s first snow;

I am what we feel when our child finally walks in after being out all night;

I am the emotion that one feels when the dark days have finally gave way to light;

I am what we feel when the Christmas hectic is finally over;

I’m that feeling of wonderment in finding a four leaf clover.

You may feel me when you look at the bright blue skies;

You may even feel me when you smell the aroma of grandma’s homemade apple pies;

I can be felt when the lights come on, and everyone in the room shouts “SURPRISE”

I’m that feeling of gratitude when the youngest child graduates from school;

I’m that sentiment some have when the kids know that drugs are really uncool;

You’ll probably feel me when the baby takes his first step;