(Poem 316 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/aqLk7a https://gencraft.ai/p/XaodDL

Dance, little girl
when the music
calls to you
and starts
your feet twirling

When your heart
makes you soar
in pattern with the birds
whose wings beat time
to the rhythm that is you

When the sky’s painted
hues look like melted
cotton candy and the trees
sign your name
with their branched hands

This joy that you feel
is the song
of your birthright
and proof that the universe
was built as your playground.

@Home Studio – 316th poem of the year

Runner ups for the Wind photos to accompany my poem: