floating thoughts

Cars drive by.  The sun is billions of light years away yet its rays sizzle on my warm skin.  Every now and then a gentle breeze flows through, lovely to feel.  The drone of machines constantly plays as sweaty black men clad in khaki uniforms maintain the grounds.  I wonder what it’s like to inhale grass fumes.

Insects wing by me, I am not interesting enough to merit a visit – wait, there’s an inquisitive fellow, I flick him off.  I may be in their territory but I don’t tolerate their impetuous behavior.  I started counting the cars entering and exiting but lost interest after 21 in, 14 out.

An interruption – debris begins its unexpected barrage onto my body – the maintenance man doesn’t see me – orange shirt, denim shorts – I look  up.  He stops, pulls away the machine and apologizes:  “I’m sorry  I didn’t see you.”

Chocolate skin, glistening in the heat, cap on, machine strapped to his back, he would be a superhero with the right colorful body-molded body suit and slicker looking machine.  Adjusting the machine he blows dust out that will re-settle when the wind picks up.

I have become more interesting to the insects.  Perhaps they mistake me for an element of nature – now that pieces of earth adorn me.  And in a sense – they are right – at my times’ ending I will fall into earth’s embrace, my form losing mold and becoming dust.  even more so i am an element of nature – spiritual and physical.

It’s time to shift, my bottom is unhappy.

Where has the breeze gone?

The world can be such a beautiful being.  If only I possessed the talent to replicate it — to give lifeless paper breath, but I am only able to put pen to paper, using words as my paints, sketching in sentences, lines shaded with my metaphors, shadow and light played against one another from paragraph to paragraph.

The vivid cobalt blue of the sky overheard is swimming with those puffy cotton ball-clouds that move in packs of 20.  They’re in no hurry.

Suddenly, I crave meatpie.  Seasoned meat, carrots and peas wrapped in doughy goodness and baked.  I am hungry.

The insects are beginning an assault on my person.  Perhaps I have become too interesting?

My time has been rewarded — a large creamy yellow butterfly flits through my vision, intent upon reaching a distant branch or maybe to alight on a promising leaf.  There have been a few others but none so large as this one.

Across from me are trees – large are some, conifers and deciduous.  Ever so slightly their limbs wave.

If the sun is trust, air is faith.  I breath it in through every pore – both sun and air, trust and faith.  Sitting in the midst of the divine, only in nature is God’s existence so completely pure and manifest.

It is time to go in.

About papillion

Intense Often Moody Transparent Exquisitely sensitive Animated Never satisfied Curious Eternal Romantic Creative Devotedly Christian Encouraging Multi-layered Loving Quick Judge Critical Forever evolving View all posts by papillion

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