The Strings of Spring.

Into the New Year where i'm in the leather seat
At the back of the jeep and every step is one towards such a destination

Every second my imagination is captured
The feelings enrapture and free me from my mind.

I squint my eyes as the colors pass by,
for once not as glorious as the inside

Angelic glitter that is added to the serenade of the beat,
the beat of the drum I march to.

From the heart of Irelands south.
to the frosted breath that comes from Boston's mouth

The heat of California Sun
from Washington's soldiers who held the gun.

I grow more excited as the lines on the road sprint and skip
I see the sunrise and I bite my lip.

As it comes before my waking eyes, I can feel the spring.
I can hear the strings.