Ice Over

And the sun stretches out like a big lazy dog over the landscape, turning to scratch its ear with the clouds before it settles again for its afternoon nap on the hills. 

With encouragement like this, I want to color the walls of my little white prison until they collapse with the weight of the wax from my crayons and release me to ride on the back of the sun dog. 

And when I escape, the sunshine in my eyes will be refilled by the One who put it there. I will breathe in the rays of crisp air and breathe out glittering shards of the same, I will hunt the clouds and feast on their cotton candy flesh. 

May my dreams never ice over.