I am Lyric

Overground, sparks of deep grooved cement flicker, aspiring the desire of summer heat. Firm boots grind away at day's craze, burnishing the harsh pavement with a summery, golden haze.

Attuned to soul's funk, at rhythm with the deep crevices of street's grind. Loose laces flicker in the glimmering gold, catching their own rhythm in the sultry air.

My skin beads with sweat as the heat swelters. A body overground, a passenger to free dance as I embrace the spirit of approaching twilight. Overburdened clouds swing above, carrying the weight of day's angst and dissipating it from my tight-lined torso.

Afrizz, my hair catches the waft of breeze, alighting my soul. Weightless I am, eyes closed and transient.

I am Mexa, merging with the minuscule momentum of drift, spiritually attuned to the wind energy.

The edge of body and soul, ephemerally rhythmical, gravity testing my endurance. My heart pounds excitedly as I watch minute asphalt flicker across the air. Flexing, bending and twisting, I release my arms into the open air, daring myself to blend with drift.

Millions of fragments expel from my gold-shadowed frame. Floating, fractured parts of myself that dare to share their voices. They contrast deeply with my quiet, daily nature, in this new world that I have arrived in.

The city's beats are sharp and hot, stinging my soul with their knife-like pressure. It is a world that traps me in its grind, like an eternal conveyor belt.

This world is yet to experience the deep love of soulful connection. To submit and release one's spirit to the scape. It is a joy to dig deep into its groove and float with the rhythm of the wind. A journey I embark on often, leaving the edge of this pressured bridge and rising high above its cranky nature.

Abreast with the wind, I feed my soul with renewed energy. Peering down at the hyped beat of the city's cog wheels, I feel wise and aware. It is a choice to step away from the grind, to attune myself to my mystic self.

A different type of rhythm taps its nature abreeze. One that cannot be heard, yet drizzles through my soul. A silent whisper of knowing and connecting, that escapes the trap of screaming grind on the city streets.

Here is far away from the sultry sandy land of my origin. My homeland is one that is large, afloat with the dusty heat of dreams. A sand that carries my feet and their prints, adorning them with love and hope.

I am marking this new world with my own identity, my way of being. It estranges me from the raised eyebrows etched upon new faces I meet instantaneously. A blur of life that passes me by, melting itself into the energy of casino's blinding lights.

I am lyric, my silent messages pressing themselves into the welcoming breeze. An air that never left me, lightly kissing my skin and encouraging my journey abroad.

I rise above the bridge between our two worlds. Although I have reached the edge and topple precariously, I know the only way forward is to immerse myself in the energies that surround me. Soon enough, my feet will settle firmly upon comfortable ground and I will establish my own foundations.

My lyric will seep its way into the souls of new people, digging away until it reaches their hearts. Somehow I will find connection, I know it. An inner strength burns alight in me. I am fuelled with determination to make this new world work.

Watch out new world, my soul has a lot to share.