Desire to Walk in the Sun

I wanted to take the bus today; to write and be alone with my music and walk in the sun.

The sun wasn't out. It's not cold, per-se, but the clouds make the air breathe ominously and chillingly. I wanted to take the bus. Winds blew down the mountain. Now I'm happy I didn't, but the emptiness remains.

I stayed in comfort, and drove as always. No music accompanied my way. The thrust of the air tickled my car to the right. Vibrations conjured music from my CD cases shuffling about in the door-wells. Though I knew the route, I still didn't want to take it. I wanted to take the bus, and feel differently along the road.

Now I'm home. The sun peaks between the clouds for a moment. The moon has risen. Writing drives my mind into itself, dancing leaves in whirls of structured vortexes. I see the structure, I predict its direction. Luster and Shadow ignite along the veins of the leaves laughing in the wind. Falling to the ground, they rest in final resolution. My thoughts lie with dune grasses, awaiting springtime innocence to flourish once more.

I wanted to take the bus, so my mind could relax with the sky.