This morning as I stood outside; the suns rays casting shadows from the clouds.. I closed my eyes and smelt the new rain. A cloak of moisture covered the glorious mountain peaks. As a blanket in the depth of winter would cover a cold soul. I listened as the birds of summer passed quickly over head. As if trying to race the wind. Oh the colors I smell and the sounds I see. The sound of the flocks wings slapping the air looks like turbulant water running over the falls. Quick and unfaltering. Nothing will stop the flow of my vision. Nothing except my return in doors. Today i am the bird. Discretefully playing with the breeze. Our sun is still not at it's full vigor. It to is playful. Teasing. Around me hoofs beat upon the wet ground like thunder being tossed about in the upper atmospheres. The glimpse of a scent takes me out of my trance like a brush fire, quick and violent. What is this. I do not think it is anything I've experienced before. The purity of it brings me to my deepest moment. Can it possibly be what I wish it was... The simple thought of it is enough to make me weep. The tears of realization appear as stars. Slowly glowing; apparant at first only to the sensitive lens. It is not until the heavens allow them to emitt strength enough that they are able to show themselves to the public below. I cry because I have discovered myself in a moment. I am in an age of self detection. This stretched play I have been in for to long. The sounds this epoch brings have become the acts Coup de Grâce. I am now boundless. After a long hibernation my heart is at last prepared to wander. Eager to be exposed, ready to lay out under the kiss of the sun, so only to be held by someone to love.

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