A mess you might make
Think, so it feels
Spill open, slog around
Wade into the swamp, on purpose
Can’t see your feet, not sure
The ground, the muck
Thick, unrelenting
You must get in, arms first
Deep, eyes closed feeling
Your way, uncertain
Pieces, hidden treasures buried
In the silt and dark sands, found
Unleash your soul to laugh
Louder, take a stand
Your heart to open, your dreams
To flourish, your light
Brighten, smells are deeper
Sights are profound, touching
Everything softer tasting
Flavors, everyone hearing the wonders
In the background of the race
You must spill open to feel
This place, surrender to the mess
The mess is the gift
Where the joy lives