Come Sunshine in your hair
Someone once told me life is not to be watched from a window, but to be lived, flesh and bones, out there, so come to me with bruises on your knees, and twigs of trees woven in your hair, come to me with scars of past loves, come to me with fractures, with burns, come with joy stained on all your clothes, come bouncy, come young, and sing songs in languages I haven't yet danced to, from places I haven't yet been to, come to me injured elbows, come to me muddy knees, come to me sunburnt cheeks, springy feet and soil in your toes from the time you were a little too fast a little too careless come to me the age you are, the place you are, come with lips stained from wilderness, eyes painted in midnight, and your hands plastered by stars, come with bad poems, and good stories, come to me right come to me wrong, come to me good, come to me bad, come short, come tall, life, you see, is not meant to be avoided through wind...
