atreesvoice

The grass and weeds recline flat upon the earth.
Where I also rest my bones and lay flush.
Presuming the deer cleared this spot as they
found refuge from their reactive living.
Is it my imagination that the ground feels
warm from their sleep?
Why wasn’t I lucky enough to be born to a life without doors?
Perhaps because I have the option of in or out,
life is more pleasant?
Yet, it seems the choice leads often to dissatisfaction
as we seek perfection and settle for physical comfort.
Yet my soul, my heart, my essence are blissful outdoors.
Even when cold and wet air surrounds us,
as my insides are full and warm.
Here things are real, alive, dead, beautiful, chaotic.
True from the divine rather than manufactured by mankind.
I am in love with this world.