I want to write a poem on wet mud

Not flowers, or love, or how I feel

But just on plain wet mud

Because to my eyes it reminds

Of the delicious color

Of my favorite chocolate

And to my nose, the favoritist smell in the world

A scent that gives

Such immense, such intense joy

To my mind it brings back memories

Of rainy days

And of those childhood times well spent

Wrapped in mud

Dancing and laughing

It reminds me of the earth

Where everything comes from

And will go one day

Wet mud

Because when I take it in my hand

It can become anything I want

A snake, a pot, a clown

Wet mud

And how it gives life

To all the beautiful trees I love

And I realize

That I have stared at the sky too often

And too long

looking at the stars

And thinking of places where I don’t belong

And now

I stare at this mud

And I know it’s there

I can touch it, feel it, smell it, see it

And as I touch and smell and see

I somehow become

Closer to me.