With deliberation unmatchable by man, the river seeks its path through the valley. Like a streaming snake the rushing waters slither along. The tree beneath which I recline shadows the blazing sun; and the winds and grasses bend as butterflies suckle flowers; the nectar doubtlessly delicious.
Elaborate colors adorn the day while insects and florals brush the canvas. The butterflies appear to come aglow from the sweetness flowing inside them. The vistas are gloriously beautiful and wonderfully peaceful.
Sipping from my cup of warmed lemoned beet juice, the day’s splendor hugs me; I hold tightly to its embraces.
Echoes of serenades ring inside my ears while chattering birds wonder where to fly; it is as though they care to relish the conflict of confusion, the argumentation that often occupies human engagements. Certainty is to be uncertain.
Strangely, one bird appears to stare my way, it seems to ask me why I am here, why I am…period. Curiously, the creature wings to the ground; it walks closely to my right foot and then looks at me. Staring back at little Mr.Quizzical, three things come to mind.
(c) 2016 Delbert H. Rhodes