I remember you,
in all the glory of your innocence -
heavenly spring of bubbling delight.
A rose about to open into so much more
of life than just a bud could ever think
itself to be. Absorbing harmony, your
nature took to blossoming so easily
back then.

Duty, honor, blasphemy - these things
were never born of your true nature.
No - you are more the gossamer of wings
upon a lively, glowing, springtime breeze.
That strength of innocence cannot be broken.
Spirit fire, sizzling - dancing through this ever
present moment of experience.

Oh, I remember you...

? Michaelette ?