It may be time to sing myself as Walt once did,
To say a bit about the me I am today.
What I’ve become in part due to the time, the marks, the pain.
To view the color jade, hear the quiet, and smell the walls that bear no mark.
And really feel the changing, merging, growing cells deep inside
It could be fine to muse the newest parts and see the lines.
Maybe allow the me that has become to walk anew and breathe this air.
And sing just like I am, this song I’ve learned by now…
The notes come out in such a way that I surprise myself-
I want to keep it and change nothing, no color, no sound, no smell.
This time the song has changed and for the good.
The notes are knowing, feeling, pregnant with time.
And the singers body full and made and formed
By hands that touched and found and knew and made the song
Is just the way I want, and who I am and why I sing this way-