In the garden
Playing a game
Fits of giggles
Spill
From the charge
Of joy
Felt only upon
Letting go

A childlike freedom
Born only from
Innocence
Or
Surrender
But in the latter
It is a
Metamorphosis
Known by few
Yet
Held sacred
By those who do

In your garden
As my laugh rings
In the air
Until
I am
Cocooned
Within your grasp

I change

I emerge

I become