Laying on the ground trying to distinguish which is farther-the clouds or the sky-and which is more alive-the leaves on the ground or the ones in the trees-a sudden moment of clarity descends in a gossamer chariot and I am overwhelmed by the chittering of the birds and the singing of the squirrels, the chiming of the cars and the roar of wind chimes. My senses are assulted by the warmth of the wind and the smell of sunshine. Somewhere a child barks while two dogs laugh over the absurdity of it all. Frogs play a sweet tune on minute violens and the crickets croak in harmony. Fingering the thorny edges of a leaf I had lain down large. I stand up small, the urge to write has risen within strong and undeniable within my breast.
