Give me a bicycle, give me Central Park.
As if I were one of the child’s kites,
I will begin to talk flight.
Just a little speed is all we need,
To feel the lightness in our knees.
It is in our heart from the start.
Do a cartwheel, one back handspring.
Remembering that youthful feeling.
Imagine through all of this cynicism,
Exists this optimistic simplicity.
The idea just to be.