Some may call it cliche, but I think I found myself today
standing there under the small waterfall and gazing up to watch the individual drops spiraling down towards my face in slow motion, almost as if each one, slowly yet rushed, leaned into kiss
my eyelid, my open mouthed smile, my collar bone,
without hesitation.
They knew exactly where they wanted to fall and land,
but they wanted to get the timing right;
they wanted the moment to be perfect.
And good God, was it.
When I reached my hands out, rainbow tinted droplets puddled in my palms,
the sun glistened against my pale skin and the water gave me satisfying chills like no other.
Vividly colored wings fluttered by my feet and the emerald leafed trees
shadowed and protected me and rocks of burgundy and taupe clay cradled me.
It wasn't the giggles escaping his mouth each time she slipped in the mud, or the way she danced careless and free beside me
that reminded me how great a treasure this life is; pleasantries weren't what I needed.
It was the intricate patterns of the silk and spider skeletons.
It was the uphill climbing adrenaline.
The masterpieces not created by men.
It was the sound of the water trickling between nooks and crannies.
The elflike mushroom homes, the winding creek paths and bees.
The warmth on my shoulders and glare through the trees.
It was the symbiosis of all of the living things around me
that most don't think to actually consider alive...
But how could I not,
when they're the only ones making me feel the same way?