Freedom is the emerald green of west coast trees,
the shining eyes of an old friend;

Freedom is bare feet and a tickle trunk;

It is hair laced with wildflowers and
berries trailing from purple fingers;
freedom gets hold of your hand 
and pulls like the ocean.

Freedom is flying without knowing where
and building sandcastles until the sun sets.
It is running faster than time and
sitting so high in a tree the stars get stuck in 
your hopelessly messy hair.

Freedom is giving everyone a crown and a cape because
we’re all royalty 
we’re all heroes
we're all free 
when we’re in the forest of emerald green.