with autumnal foliage flirting with sunlight, scattering some caressing some, i stop for a moment thinking about the little things that go unceleberated but that celeberate me so much.
like the lazy sun avalanching through the window against which i rest my head and conduct my holy and not so holy interlude with karamzov, iyer, roark, rand and the quintessential cuppa. sometimes wolfgang mozart amuses me as much as he thrills me to the extent that i curl my toes. or when vivaldi disdainfully chews his lips for my failing in gleaning his genious and just hearing his renditions, not soaking! anastasio gets his Ghost and himself to commit sins along with the Danish Marble Cut cakes from one of those many stores.
the sagging cushion on which i rest i flip it over and sit back again. the occasional strands of hair that lie on the floor and stab the eyes, are quickly disposed. turn my head to the dancing foliage again.
i sigh in peace and in the quest to share all this with all life forms and all ids. i know i cant.
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