Kids running amuck through fields of flowers, grass, and tiny insects.

Insects that could bring death upon them.

No thorns to prick or cut away at their ankles.

Down the hill they roll as free as can be,

Red stained eyes filled with sadness let the salty sea come pouring down as the memories come to pass.

Everyone watches the kids run by as they sit and relax in the sun.

Down they go to wash themselves and clothes in one load. They cannot be removed.

Separated at birth, free at last. May their hearts be at ease. Find your sister, hug your brother, kiss your mother goodbye.

People of all ages far and wide run through the field of thornless flowers.

Inspired by hope.

Risk it all.

Intangible was what

Tangible is now.