Paint and Pixels

The Spring in Me

There is a spring in me.
Although the waters that surround it are icy cold,
The fount spews forth flames of pricy gold
And its raging waters entice me to behold
That the ground is streaming.
And the sound is screaming.
All that is around is gleaming.
Every thought I've found is dreaming
About the splendid spring in me.

There is a spring in me.
It launches me higher than the trees,
Making me a flyer through the breeze
And the desire of all who sees.
To the stars I ascend.
I never want this flight to end.
To the galaxies my arms extend.
And I'll never comprehend.
The wonder of this spring in me.

There is a spring in me.
It plunges me into the deepest part of the earth,
Where I find hidden treasures and buried art of high worth.
Intertwining roots absorb my soul and start my rebirth,
Conforming me into something new,
Transforming the ground as I break through,
Swarming me with sparkling drops of dew,
Forming me into the tallest tree that ever grew
And it is nourished by this spring in me.

There is a spring in me.
Its addicting sensuality elicits a charming touch.
I can only surrender to its unarming clutch.
And my body pulsates alarming that such
A high potency is frightful.
But the sexuality is so delightful
May it last a whole night full.
Anyone without it must be spiteful.
For they do not know the spring that is in me.

There is a spring in me.
It does not flow with wine or rum
And pills and smoke I would decline to succumb.
For I want the power of the divine to come.
The force of this drug is untamed and wild.
Its savage sting is famed and beguiled
And its intoxicating waters flame my inner child.
Any other influencing name is reviled,
When faced with the unrivalled spring in me.

There is a spring in me.
Its unceasing flow, I will never quench.
I invite its sweet waters to cover me and drench.
I have relinquished my own hands from their old foolish clench.
And surrendered to the spring in me.