Possible, it is possible,
On the barren breast of the earth,
A tiny sprout, stomping its feet,
Descends on a verdant defiance, possible.
Possible, it is possible, it is possible.
The sun held within a fist,
And from the cracks, the fingers' gleam,
Light spills upon the floor, possible.
Possible, it is possible, it is possible.
One dream for a thousand eyes,
One destination on a thousand paths,
Rain for a thousand thirsts,
Possible, it is possible, it is possible, it is possible.
Possible, it is possible, it is possible, it is possible.
To reach and touch the clouds,
And from a cloud, to squeeze and
Moisten the lips, possible.
To play with a lamp against the storms,
To laugh in revelry, possible.
To bathe dreams in tears,
And then to see the washed dreams,
To keep on seeing them, possible.
Possible, it is possible, it is possible.
Taking an innocent paper,
And making a boat of desires,
To embark on a journey, possible.
Possible, it is possible, it is possible.
In the shade of dense trees,
To think of the pain of autumn, possible.
In the blossomed sunlight's season,
To think of the chill of a cold night, possible.
In the very heart of the palm,
To hold an orange ember,
And to smolder, reaching the soul, possible.
Possible, it is possible, it is possible.
The whisper of tomorrow's footstep,
Heard from afar, and opening the doors,
To adorn the path, possible.
One dream for a thousand eyes,
One destination on a thousand paths,
Rain for a thousand thirsts,
Possible, it is possible, it is possible.
Possible, it is possible, it is possible.
Possible, it is possible, it is possible, it is possible.
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