Being Alive.

Being alive. Transactions with the trees bring ease upon me. Breathe into my lungs, become a Mr. Hyde inside me. Tousles hair atop the pillow. Will you let me tell of you the silly muses that I find? Cliche of me to say I find the beauty in everything, singing sun along the hillside trilling birds that flitter by. Oh, in my life I see the glory in the story behind the mask. To ask yourself about yourself and be surprised. The things that have yet to be are about to begin, and I just sit back with my pen.