The fire crackles and sparks fly
My thoughts slow down and the moment gets high
What is this magic combustion of air and fuel, reaching for the sky?
The air is drenched with the smell of spring blossoms, bursting into life
It lingers in my head and mutes my mind and strife
What are these magical molecules, mixed with woodsmoke, drifting rife?
A crisp, buoyant birdsong warbles clear through the rain
It pauses my thoughts… and stillness and peace are all that remain
What is this magical creature, creating sounds resounding in my soul, easing my pain?
The sun beams through the dampened grey sky,
streaming light through the droplets, the rain and tears as I cry
What is this glowing spectrum of vibrant colours, arching across the sky, inspiring me to try?
The touch of the rain-soaked earth infuses into my bare feet
It grounds my electric mind and allows it to retreat
What is this ionic charge, from the storm and soil, making me feel complete?
It is the magic of the senses, ready to connect us to each moment, where everything commences
To connect us to the Earth and nature, where magic abounds, ready for us to sense it
About the Creator
MacroLove
Nature photography, words, and art of great scale, scope, and capability. I intend to magnify love in all forms through my photos, writing, and creativity to inspire healing and love for nature, oneself, each other, and all life.
She loves me
She loved me. When I was small and my wee stayed to the paper. When I was rumpled skin and floppy big paws and big eyes looking up and waiting for her hands to find me, scooping me up and bringing me into her. And we were happy, so happy, so very, very happy. I was so happy to see her and danced my circles so she'd know how much I wanted nothing more than for her to hold me. I'd wrap, wiggle, wiggle and wrap my growing body with my bestest happy dance, slumping and kerplumping into her warm parts just like she liked me to. She was there and I was there, and we were there together, and it was perfect. Oh, how she loved me! We spent all our time together, playing inside, outside, up, down, going round and round. And she petted me and called me good girl when I made poops, and sometimes when I weed in her front yard or the neighbor's, and I was the best girl. For her, I really was! And she scratched me behind my ears, and it was heaven. I aowooo my joy! And she aowoooed hers too.
By Christy Munson6 days ago in Fiction
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