inspired by words read.

During the harvest time, I become encircled in a gust of leaves. An unexpected rush, I titled my head up to the sky, anticipating the discovery of its origin. However, I quickly reminded myself that I was not among trees, but rather along the path that paralled the grassy field. As my head came down to face the earth, the colorful mess grew tired of circling me and instead danced its way into the clearing. As if its purpose was to render me curious, I was compelled to follow. In an instant, my heart's desire met body, as my feet diverged from the path and into the open space. Free from restriction, I began to sense the vastness of my surroundings and eventually lost sight of the traveling leaves. I halted and kept silent. The air was then still-not even the faint whisper of the carrying wind. The tall grasses were surprsingly soft under my fingertips as I moved slowly over each individal blade. The sun shown down, but did not swelter; instead, its heat spread equally across the field, causing a soothing warmth. At peace, I laid myself down on the yielding earth, to once again gaze up at the sky. I desired to know the farmer who planted this space- who as an artist, blended all that was naturally beautiful and alluring to the soul, and created the masterpiece that was now my haven. Could he know the extent of his talent? Could he know its effect on the mind and soul? And could he know my presence? Was he the keeper of the leaves that bid my entrance in the first place?

I am left to rest, and believe it so.