Prisms of Me, Awakening

Blank sheets of paper, so many thoughts will I get them out fast enough before I forget them then other times there is nothing. Then I might hear a word or see something and I see a story. Its like magic. How does it happen? Why does it happen? It is like I have to write it down or a treasure is buried again waiting for someone else to find it. Word that need to be said, stories that need to be told.

 Fantasy, mothers' dreams, dancing and our passion makes us transcend into a different world, stepping into the many prisms of our soul. Prisms of me, awakening, shining, they want to be read, sung, shared with others to help them find their blank sheet to write on, draw on; creating their magic.

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Me at 6 years old