Nature’s Call

Rustling as I steadily walk away
The sounds of reality are powerless to pull me back
The cool, mid-morning breath calls,
Chirping with the voice of birds
In the serene morning air,
Soft warmth radiates from the sun
Melting the chill that bites my skin.
Smell the grass; encased in cool glass crystals,
Opening my eyes, I see the bugs flying at a thoughtful leisure
As idle and complex as my mind.
My consciousness starts to twitch with the grass
Waiting for something to happen.

(had to sit on the grass in the morning and write a poem)